Night Consort
by The Moonlily
Summary: Troubled and angry, Alfred tries to adjust to his new undead existence in the woods of Transylvania. He is guided on this dark path by the man who turned him, but the way to acceptance is not easily tread, nor is the bond between them soon denied. Continuation of Night Reader.
1. Prologue

**Title: **Night Consort

**Rating: **T/M

**Pairings: **Krolock/Alfred

**Genre: **Drama/General

**Summary: **So now Alfred is a vampire. Turns out it's more he could imagine.

**A/N: **Sequel to _Night Reader. _To be honest, I'm not entirely certain yet what the entirety of this story will be, but I have a good feeling about it, and I think it's the kind that will find its form along the way. I had a good respons at the end of the previous story, _Night Reader, _in regards to the question whether there was any interest to a sequel. And at that point, I did have certain ideas about what this sequel would be. Turns out, I really can't do without a Krolfred story at the side!

As always, all comments are most welcome! Let me know what you think.

* * *

**Prologue**

Let me tell you a thing about vampire stories.

Mortals like to think they always begin with some kind of a bloody tragedy, and I suppose you will expect the same from this one, too. And yes, there is bloody tragedy in it, at least if you ask my father. He gets all dramatic that way, but I will allow that it's hard for him not to – he and I _are _undead minions of the Night, after all.

He's often the villain of the story, which I also understand. Mortals have no reason to love us, even if a few misguided ones have made valiant efforts to do so. But if we really get down to it, I think my father also sees us as victims of our own tales. We didn't choose to be this way – or, at least, he didn't. We aren't even the worst monsters out there, and we have our own code.

No, I'm not trying to sell myself or him as good people. We are what we are, drifting through time and sometimes surfacing to remind mankind that monsters are real. But every now and then, mankind will also remind _us _that every monster has its counterpart on the light side.

But now I'm rambling. I didn't mean to talk to you about monsters or mortals, or lecture you about vampire stories in general. I meant to tell you about a Transylvanian nobleman of German origin. He lived in his castle far in the wilderness, beyond mountains and the forest, and he loved his wife and son so much that he came back for them even after he had died.

So you see now what I mean. Some of our stories have pretty hopeful beginnings, no matter how badly things turn out in the end. For like you probably know already, that sweet lady did not long survive her undead husband, who killed her even though he loved her. His son grew up to be a handsome, charming young man if I may say so, but still deep down the nobleman felt like something essential had died with his wife. But he kept going, mostly because his only surviving child asked it of him.

And so it was. So it would be, until even forever ran out. But then one dark winter night there was a chance meeting in the woods near the castle.

There, half dead from the cold, the undead count found a young scientist from Königsberg... and on an impulse, he picked up the lad and brought him back to the castle.

And then, for the first time since his wife had died, the nobleman loved again. I could have told him from the start it would turn out ugly, but it was a waste of time to try and change his mind. My father always does as he will. But this _is _a vampire story, so of course it ended with the poor young man bleeding to death on the ground.

You know what, though? That lad loved his monster – so much, in fact, that he couldn't be held back by death, either.

And that, gentle reader, is about where our story begins.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Eventually, the screams faded and the shadows of villagers vanished into the night. Last went the old foolish professor who had brought the rabble to the castle in the first place. Herbert watched them go and expected the village folk now had a renewed sense of terror for this dark castle.

He had been perfectly unaware of the scene before the gate, until Koukol had come to get him. If the hunchback thought the master of the castle was in trouble, then it had to be serious indeed. But that very moment, he felt such wrath and horror as he never had before. It had been so intense, it had almost stunned him with its force. On the other hand, he had also been surprised that his father, who was generally very difficult to move, would experience something so fierce. And then Herbert had known something was terribly wrong.

So he had rushed outside and seen his father grow as tall as the sky before the terrified villagers... and Alfred on the ground, quite obviously dying.

The Viscount was fairly sure that glimpse of Vati's wrath would have been enough to banish the whole mob, but his sire's panicked thought had Herbert moving almost on his own to chase the rabble away. Meanwhile, his father flew to the side of the wounded young man. Herbert didn't need to watch to know what Vati was going to do.

At last he turned around to look at his father. Vati was supporting Alfred's limp body in his arms and holding his wrist to the young man's mouth. It looked a little hopeless and for a moment, Herbert thought the poor lad was already too far gone. But Vati had this terrible, focused look on his face. He wasn't going to give up.

Quietly Herbert approached them. He watched as Vati pulled back his hand and the wound on his wrist closed up. Alfred lay very still, eyes closed, face white as death where bloodstains didn't cover his skin. He looked so young and broken, but Vati was hovering over him like a giant shadow, refusing to let his spirit pass.

Suddenly, he felt intense pity for the poor lad. But what was done... well, there was no going back now.

It was funny business, turning into a vampire. Had Vati succeeded? They wouldn't know until next sunset.

"Are you all right?" Herbert asked at last, touching his sire's shoulder carefully.

"I'm fine", Vati snapped as he gathered Alfred close to his chest and lifted him. Herbert refrained from sighing. He knew that Vati had entertained this noble notion of actually letting his young lover remain mortal and go live his life. A rare choice for him, and a rare act of selflessness. But here they were, and Vati was sure to torment himself over the idea that he had ruined Alfred's chances.

So he decided there was nothing more he could say at the time. Silently, Herbert watched as his father carried Alfred's body back inside.

A few hours later he went to check on them. After a quick search, he found them in Alfred's bedchamber. Vati sat next to the bed, legs crossed, supporting his head with one hand as he stared at the still figure in the bed. He had washed Alfred's face and changed the bloody clothes. It was a good call. Waking up as one of the undead was disconcerting enough even when you weren't covered in your own blood.

"Do you need anything?" Herbert felt compelled to ask. Vati's grim mood was clear enough even without their mental bond and he just hated it. While the man generally was of a more melancholy nature than Herbert, this was... this was different.

"No thank you", Vati said. At least he wasn't so snappy anymore. He seemed more resigned than before, and regretful. How was he going to reconcile what he had done? How was he ever going to do it, if Alfred woke up as a complete monster?

"What do you think will happen when he wakes up?" Herbert asked at length, deliberately avoiding the _if. _That would be even worse. If Alfred didn't open his eyes when the sun set again... then Vati had made that monstrous choice for nothing.

"I don't know. But if I had to guess, I would imagine he will be quite angry with me", Vati answered after a silence. He looked up suddenly and fixed his eyes on Herbert. In them, there was a strange glimmer that worried the Viscount just a little bit. In a quiet voice he asked, "Herbert, what have I done?"

Sympathy rushed through Herbert's mind. He knew his poor old father had never quite accepted the fact of what he was. He'd exchange it all for a mortal life if he could. And now it was Alfred's burden, too. Herbert knew it would be yet another addition to an already long list of regrets – and perhaps the one that mattered more than most.

"You tried to save him the only way you could. Would it really be better if he had truly died? We don't know what happens when he wakes up. Maybe it will be a good thing. I turned out all right, didn't I?" Herbert said at last, feeling rather proud of how wise he sounded to himself. He wasn't always so frivolous as some people liked to imply.

But that weird, bright light remained in Vati's eyes. He wasn't convinced or consoled.

"He didn't deserve this", he muttered, almost to himself.

Herbert moved to stand next to his sire. He put a gentle hand on the man's shoulder.

"Nobody does. But it's too late to regret now. Tomorrow at this time, we'll have ourselves a new vampire", Herbert stated. No, he wasn't going to even imply that Alfred might not wake up. If it _did _happen, they would deal with it then.

"He will hate me for doing this to him. As he very well should", Vati said quietly as his bony hands pressed into tight fists.

"Well, I suppose he'll be a bit angry at first. But I really don't think he's the type to hold a grudge. Not to mention, he's not going to have to do this alone. He's got you, and I guess he'll have me, too. Vater... he loved you once. There's no reason why he can't do that again", Herbert said, which also sounded very reasonable to him. But then, maybe it was too soon to expect Vati to be reasonable. After all, he had gone a little mad when Alfred had got hurt.

Vati grunted and fixed his eyes on Alfred's face again. He wasn't making much effort to cloak his thoughts, and Herbert felt the memories of his own turning. The Viscount shuddered. The darkness, the wood, the piercing agony... now _there _was a monster in that memory.

Alfred would see it, too. And unless he lost his mind, he'd remember that the choice to turn him had not been made in horrible lust, but in a wild need to save him.

* * *

Alfred woke up and did not know where he was.

Behind him, in his memory, there was only blackness. His head ached when he tried to think back, but it was only a minor inconvenience when compared to how thirsty he was. Or, it wasn't really _thirst. _It was this strange, gnawing need, and it was everywhere. From the pit of his stomach to his throat and to his very mouth... it felt maddening.

He opened his eyes and struggled to get up. Then he realised he was in a bed and his limbs were sore and weak, as if it he had been sick for a long time and was only now getting up for the first time. He could smell the linen and wool of his clothes but also some more expensive fabric close by, dust motes floating in the air, the polished wood of bed frame... he wasn't cold but neither was he warm. At the edge of his vision he saw firelight, but the room was strangely bright anyway. Noises appeared heightened as well, the fire was crackling as though he was sitting next to it, the wind outside sounded like a proper tempest, and there was some weird creaking sound that he thought was coming from the hallway.

And then a voice.

"Alfred. Be calm. You are quite safe", it spoke, making him jump in alarm.

He looked around and there, next to the bed, he saw _him. _Leaning forward in a chair was Johannes, and the man was studying him intently.

Seeing Krolock there, Alffred's memories began to trickle back. That last night they had spent together, his journey to the village, and finding Professor Abronsius very much alive... and last of all, the scene before the gate of Castle von Krolock.

Alfred jerked. Then he looked down at his chest, though he wasn't certain what he expected to see. But as he spread open the neck of his crisp white shirt, he only saw spotless skin. There was no sign of hideous injuries or an attempt to tend to them. He went as far as to touch the skin, as if his eyes were deceiving him.

Horror surged through him as he lifted his eyes to stare at the Count. He could see all too well for this level of light. His head felt heavy with all the smells and little noises around him. That terrible, aching need that throbbed inside, more and more forceful as he paid attention to it... and as he opened his mouth to speak, he felt them: two fangs where his canines were supposed to be.

"What did you do?" he asked, although talking was more difficult than he had expected with the fangs.

Johannes did not respond at first. He gazed back at Alfred and his features were bland, but somehow the young man knew he was _sad. _He couldn't say how he knew this – it just was obvious.

"I turned you", came the quiet reply at last.

There was a lengthy silence as Alfred just stared at the Count. Of course he knew it was true. He felt the fangs in his mouth and the growing hunger inside, along with a hundred other tell-tale sensations. But still he rather desperately wished this was only a horrifying dream that would soon end.

At last he got himself moving. Alfred jumped up on his feet and felt disoriented for a moment; his very skin did not feel like it was his own. And with that, the undeniable truth began to hammer inside his skull.

_I died. I died. I'm like him now. _

_I can never go home. _

"How could you?! How could you do that to me?!" he screamed in rage and grief, and he didn't know which he wanted more, to go and pound his fists against Johannes until that devil felt just as wretched as he did, or just crumble down and weep in heartbreak. In a matter of two nights he had lost everything and the onslaught simply _wouldn't end, _as though he still had something left to give.

Johannes stood up as well, though his motion was slower and much less anxious.

"I know, Alfred", he said, still so infuriatingly quiet. Why couldn't he even fight properly?! Why did he have to look at him with those eyes that held so much sorrow that even Alfred couldn't help but feel it and almost shake at how deep and ancient it was?

"I know", Johannes said again and took a small step closer, "I wish there was something else I could have done. But you were dying before my eyes and I couldn't bear it."

"_You _couldn't bear it?! You had no right to make that choice for me! I was dying because you just couldn't resist the opportunity of tempting yet another human, even though her father was standing right there! I died because of _you!" _Alfred shouted viciously, never minding the fact that he was the one who had got himself so horribly wounded.

Still, he saw the way Johannes flinched. The reaction was so unusual, it surprised him so that the shock almost eclipsed his anger. Until now, he had never seen anything throw the Count off balance.

"Yes, it was my fault", he said quietly at length. "Though I will have you know I wasn't trying to tempt her. I was trying to warn her."

Again, Alfred was almost shocked to complacency. Now there was another first: Johannes admitting he had done something wrong.

"Then why didn't you say so! You always have to be oh so clever with words! Look where it has got us now!" he screamed nevertheless.

"I never thought it would end this way, Alfred. I'd rather you had gone and lived your life", Johannes replied and let out a heavy sigh.

Alfred stared at him with wide eyes. At last, his anger became something cold and dull, even overpowering that greedy sensation he now knew to be the urge to drink blood.

"I wish that too", he said, quiet and regretful as he stared at the man who had turned him into one of the undead. The enormity of it hit him. They were bound now, in ways he couldn't even begin to comprehend. And his old life was gone for good, and nothing would ever bring it back. The idea took his breath away, both in its finality and also because of the irony. Only a short while ago, he had been so anxious to stay here a little longer...

The Count's face was blank as he regarded Alfred.

"You will have to feed soon, Alfred. Don't postpone it for too long", he said slowly and turned to the door. Before he opened it, he added, "You know how to find me."

Then he exited the room, moving as noiselessly as a shadow.

Alfred collapsed to sit down on the edge of his bed. His insides crawled with the _need, _but also with despair. He had died. And yet here he was, undead and stuck with the man who had lied to him and then turned him into a vampire without even asking if Alfred wanted it... he couldn't go back home, or see his mother and siblings again, or try to get over his disappointment and go on living.

It was bizarre. On so many nights he had felt torn over the idea of going back home and living the life his father wanted for him. But now, realising all those options were lost forever, he suddenly realised what Johannes had meant when he had spoken of being stuck.

Before he knew it he was sobbing. But no tears came out as he buried his face in his hands, and somehow this made it all the worse. He was howling into his hands for all his loss and the fact that he felt more alone than ever in his life. And yet no matter how he screamed, the pain did not lessen, or even grow any duller. It only turned around in his chest.

What on earth was he going to do now?

* * *

Somehow, that first night passed. For a long time, Alfred lay in his bed, feeling miserable and clueless over what would happen next. But the longer he remained so, the more aware he became of that greedy thing in his mouth and in his throat and in his belly. _You will have to feed soon. _

Alfred got up on his feet and began to pace in the room. What if he _didn't _feed? Maybe he could will himself into not doing it. He felt fairly clear-minded, he could reason with himself, and he had the very distinct notion that going on a murderous rampage would be bad. As far as he could tell, most of Krolock's coven did not bother themselves with such thoughts. He didn't have to be like them.

Still, his mouth felt so parched. And when he began to entertain that idea, and how good it would feel to sink his teeth into something living, it got harder and harder to recall why he should try to fight it... his hands were shaking and he looked around himself wildly, seeking for a way out.

But then he realised what he was doing. Horror replaced those beastly thoughts and he stumbled back, until he hit the wall. Still shaking, Alfred fell to sit on the floor. Once more he felt like crying. It was like there was this _thing _in his head now, and it could smell and feel all these things, and it was so desperate to get out... and he knew how easy it would be to give in to it. Just stop holding back...

He pressed his fingertips against his forehead.

"Stop it. You're not like this", he said out loud, _needing _to convince himself.

He could still be human. He didn't have to become a monster. And with that, a thought began to grow anew. Maybe, if he avoided drinking blood, he could still remain little less a vampire.

His agonised thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door. Alfred jumped. Either the person at the other side of the door had a very heavy hand, or his hearing had heightened to an alarming degree.

Then came a voice.

"Alfred? Are you all right? May I come inside?"

It was Herbert. Of course _he_ would send the Viscount.

"Go away! If I never see you and your father again, it will still be too soon!" shouted Alfred. He sounded so vicious, it even surprised himself. Well, that was another reason to be angry at _him_. He had never been of malicious nature, but now there was this coil inside of him, and it made him feel like he was choking.

There was no answer. It was almost disappointing. Alfred felt he'd like to shout and rage, because at least then he wouldn't want to cry.

But as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he was already shaking and sobbing. No tears came, though, which made the whole experience very strange – uncomfortable even. He wrapped his own arms about himself, as though he was falling apart and this was the only way he could try to prevent it.

And it hit him then. He was undead. His only companions were the man who had betrayed him, the unnerving son of that very indivdual, and a hunchback who didn't even like him. He could never go home, or have a life and career, or grow old. All these doors were now shut to him; he might have regarded some of them grudgingly before this moment, but when they were irretrievably lost... knowing he could never be those things did hurt more than he had imagined.

All because of _him._

It was a long time before Alfred could calm down. He felt strangely sore, as if his undead body was somehow not suited for crying. He was sitting on the floor, his back against the edge of his bed, and he had pulled his knees against his chest. He had never felt more alone.

That first night of Alfred's existence as a vampire felt longer than any before it. Anxiously he paced in his room, feeling caged but also resenting the idea of going out and facing _them _again. Often he stopped at the window and gazed out in the hopes of first sign of dawn.

He had not tasted human blood yet. He could fight it still. When the morning came, he would prove it: he would not fall comatose, but get out of his room, find something to eat, and then go outside. And he would be strong enough to keep on doing it until... well, he didn't really know what he expected to happen. Even he wasn't so naive as to think angels would come down and absolve him thanks to his righteous struggle.

Still, maybe one could live like this. He wanted harm to nobody, so surely it would aid him in fighting the monstrous need that even now stirred inside him?

The Count and Herbert did not disturb him again that night, but he doubted they were very far. They would probably jump out the moment he left his room. Right now, he couldn't face either of them, no matter how confined he felt inside the walls of the chamber. Alone and forlorn, the hours felt even longer.

Slowly, the darkness began to grow lighter outside. The first blush of dawn appeared in the sky. Somewhere behind his eyes there was a strange, dull sensation. He didn't feel weary, but he had was tempted by the idea of finding some nice, dark spot and laying himself down. It was compelling. The cool darkness seemed quite enticing, and momentarily he even found himself considering the benefits of a tomb... but then Alfred caught himself once more. In horror he shook himself. How could he even think of something so vile?

_You shouldn't try to fight it, Alfred. You'll only feel more miserable than you do now. Believe me when I say you can't win, _a soft voice whispered inside his mind.

"Get out of my head!" he yelled out loud, as he had no idea of how to answer with his thoughts. Nor did he want to, as if denying this connection might erase it.

_You'll see,_ the voice just said and then fell silent.

It roused his anger anew. He wouldn't be told what he could or couldn't do. And he'd go right now, undead or not, and not mind what the Count thought of it.

It so happened Alfred's bag, the one he had packed upon his intended departure, had been brought to the room. So he picked it up, lifted it on his shoulder, and purposefully strode outside. He wouldn't have stopped even if Krolock or his son had been waiting behind his door.

But the hallway was empty and quiet. Nothing stirred in the vast space as he made his way towards the ancient kitchens of the castle. There was no sign of Koukol as he went. Perhaps the Count had ordered the hunchback to keep away.

As Alfred walked, he started to become aware of things he had never noticed before. The smell of the castle was different. There was dust of long ages and he nearly fancied he could perceive different periods in it, and people long gone. He smelled the many curtains and hangings, the slight dampness here and there, and wood and paint and metal. He also smelled the forest beyond the castle walls, teeming with life...

A shudder went down his spine when that hungry sensation stirred again. Life meant blood. And there would be plenty of things in the forest that were not human...

Alfred shook himself. No, he couldn't even drink from an animal – he couldn't let himself taste blood at all. Even that was disturbing and he shuddered again to realise that there was now something inside him that did want it. He felt monstrous.

He walked faster, urged by the panicked need to prove himself his humanity was not all gone. The kitchen was quiet when he entered it and quickly he began to look for food. It didn't take him long to discover a bit of stale bread, a wedge of cheese and some cold ham. He fixed himself a small meal of these ingredients.

But the smell of the food was off. It was not appealing at all, although he couldn't even recall the last time he had eaten anything. His stomach turned but bravely Alfred forced himself to take a bite, and then another. The taste was even more wrong than the smell had been, and soon enough he was gagging. All of it went into a dusty bucket he found nearby.

Alfred was shaking. It would be so comforting to think that the food was spoiled somehow, but deep down he knew better. The problem was not with the food, it was with himself. He couldn't eat because he wasn't meant to.

He wanted to cry again, but what good would it do? He couldn't cry in the way he wanted to, the way a human would cry. Even that was now denied to him.

He rubbed both his hands against his eyes, as though to wipe the tears that weren't there. He had to get moving.

So he picked up his bag again and strode quickly towards the entrance hall. The sooner he got out, the better. Maybe fresh air would clear his head.

The hall was brighter than he remembered it being ever before now. Alfred blinked against the light but did not wait for his eyes to adjust. He walked even faster now, almost half running by the time he got to the great doors that lead outside.

He pushed them open and was immediately blinded. Sunlight burned in his vision white-hot, flashing in his brain like a metal hook straight from the fire. He almost cried out in shock and pain. Every instinct in him was screaming, urging him to turn back into the cool, comforting darkness of the castle.

_I'm human, I'm human, I'm human,_ Alfred chanted inside his own head, as though this could be made true by sheer force of will. However, the light continued to burn his eyes, and it grew only worse as he took halting steps outside.

And then his skin began to burn, too. It felt like he was being exposed to an open flame. When he lifted up his hand, he saw it was bright red.

Again he cried out, though it was not merely in pain or shock now, it was also in overwhelming regret.

He wasn't human.

One more step he took in agony and defiance, but then the burning grew too much. Stumbling he fell back inside, and then scurried to an inviting shadow. There he crumbled down on the floor and pressed himself against cold wall. He shut his eyes tightly to shield them from the light, though the insides of his lids were still flashing with the memory of light. He felt sick.

And that was how he remained there, curled up into a ball, and feeling absolutely wretched until night fell once more.

* * *

Night came and Alfred could feel it. There was a growing sensation inside himself, a strong certainty and also something that called him. It was like the darkness was speaking to him, inviting him – like an old friend whispering promises.

But Alfred curled up around himself even more tightly, fighting the yearning for the night, and also the aching emptiness inside him. God, he was so thirsty. He knew just the way to make it better. Yet when he allowed himself to think of it, it grew and grew, until he felt quite mad inside his own mind.

A smallest whimper escaped his mouth and he curled up even tighter. His fingers dug into his own sides, pressing so hard that in any other circumstances, it would have hurt.

He did not know how long he had remained there, pathetically huddled in the shadowy corner. Most likely, he wouldn't have moved on his own accord, too afraid of both light and the dark. But then at last there came a moment when he felt somebody nearby, and their presence was known to him in a most peculiar way – both in his head and on his skin, somehow.

A hand pressed against his shoulder.

"Alfred", a soft voice coaxed him, "You need to let me help you."

Had he been able to do it, he would have contradicted that statement. But the only sound he was able to produce was a low, pained groan.

And then he was lifted from the ground. Strong hands easily held him and he immediately recognised their feel, their unfaltering support. Alfred began to struggle weakly, although he knew he wouldn't prevail against this one even if he were in his full strength and coherence.

However, much to his surprise, the hands put him down again when he started to fight against the grip. He stumbled and almost fell on the floor, but Alfred found some last reserve of strength in himself to stay upright. His eyes, still sore from the light, focused to a tall, dark figure before him.

Krolock was standing still and staring at him.

"I don't want to manhandle you or touch you against your will", he said evenly, "but I cannot watch you suffer like this."

"Then you shouldn't have turned me", Alfred finally managed to speak. His voice came out thin and raspy.

"It was the only way I could save you", the Count replied in quiet tones.

"It wasn't your choice to make!" replied the younger of the two, his voice rising a little bit.

"No, it wasn't", his sire agreed softly, which rather took him aback. But the man continued, "But what would you do in that situation? If the only other option was watching your companion die?"

Alfred couldn't answer. He knew what he'd do – what he _had_ done. He wouldn't be standing here if he didn't know the answer to that question. And even now, he couldn't say for sure if he wouldn't do it again.

Seeing Alfred wasn't saying anything, the Count let out a sigh and continued to speak.

"I did not wish this for you, Alfred. I meant to let you go. But for better or for worse, we are here now, and I'll be damned if I don't make sure that you can survive. Let me teach you", he said, steady and determined again.

"No", Alfred refused and made a halting move towards the doors. He felt weak and dizzy, but he couldn't give up now, "I'm going."

"And where do you think that is? How far out of that door do you expect to get? And what of the first human you come across? Do you really think you won't viciously murder that poor bastard? Worse yet, what if that is what you do to your family?" Krolock shot questions at him in a merciless pace.

"I won't murder anybody. I can fight this", Alfred argued, though his voice was so feeble it didn't even convince himself. Deep down, a sense of horror rose at the thought of hurting his parents or his siblings.

The Count let out a bitter laugh.

"How naive. Do you really believe nobody ever tried that before you? I barely lasted two weeks. At the end of it, I was so famished, I killed my own wife whom I loved more than anything", he said grimly and his blue eyes burned like cold fire. Alfred shuddered. Everything about his sire was just truly terrifying right now.

But then just as abruptly Krolock's countenance softened and he looked at the young vampire with something akin to weary compassion.

"I know what you are thinking of, Alfred. You think you can be the exception to the rule. But there are no exceptions in this. You will deteriorate, until you are begging me to help you – or until you go mad. And that is an outcome I do not recommend", he said in a quiet voice.

Alfred turned around. Wearily he rubbed his face, trying to relieve it of a strange ache. His body felt wrong. And he was so thirsty.

"I don't want to be like this", he uttered half-audibly and noted how truly miserable his voice sounded.

"And I don't blame you", came the soft answer only a few steps behind himself. "Believe me when I say that I would free you, were it in my power."

Alfred glanced at him warily over his shoulder. His eyes were still sore, but he thought Krolock looked very old right then, as ancient as mountains, and as sad as rain. And no matter how angry he was, he did realise something obvious.

Neither of them could stand watching the other die.

_To be continued. _

* * *

**A/N: **And here is a new chapter! I hope you liked it. :) It was interesting to get inside Alfred's head and take this first look at vampirism through his eyes. Naturally, he's less than happy with his new circumstances. We'll see how things will develop from here on, and how he'll accept Krolock's teachings.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

* * *

**ghostwritten2 - **Glad to hear you liked it! I do agree a vampire romance shouldn't be too light; it should always have something dark and sinister about it. Hence why a lot of this genre is unreadable to me, because so many stories don't seem to want to engage in the "ugly bits".

**anon - **Hope you continue to enjoy the story! Unfortunately I don't have a planned schedule made, but I will try to update as frequently as I can.

**Calimera - **Great to have you on board again! :)

That is quite the fitting background music, in fact! :D I wasn't intentionally trying to go for that sort of atmosphere, but I can definitely see why it would be a good match for the prologue.

I'm not sure yet how much Herbert's POV will be in this story, but we'll see. He's such a fun character to use as the story-teller.

**GabsStories -** Thank you very much! I am glad to hear you like my stories so well! :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

They started with the animals in the woods of the castle.

It wasn't easy to convince the Count to let him consume animals first, but when Alfred made it clear he would rather go mad than to let a human be his first kill, the man had grudgingly relented.

Still, Krolock made it clear that sooner or later, Alfred would need human blood.

"Animals won't sustain you for long. Believe me, every trick you are coming up with now, I have already tried – and found lacking. You can't deceive your own nature", he said gravely as they quietly made their way through the forest. Well, Krolock was quiet, but Alfred felt like every twig in the forest was determined to crush under his feet. He was no more agile than he had been as a human.

He thought about arguing, but he got the distinct feeling he was never going to outsmart the Count with words. So he just grunted in response and nearly fell as his foot slipped between some tree roots. A strong, white hand caught him by his elbow and supported him while he found his bearings again. Alfred kept his eyes fixed on the ground and was glad he could no longer blush.

They halted in a small clearing. It was bare and grey, for spring had not yet come to bring the wood back to life. Yet there was eerie beauty in this place as well, for the moon was bright and the stillness of the forest was almost dream-like.

"Now stand still. Close your eyes. What can you feel?" Krolock asked him as he halted to stand in the centre of the clearing. He stood impossibly tall and still, his face was white as snow, but his eyes glowed like blue pits of cold fire. He looked even less human than normally and the sight triggered some lingering human instinct at the back of Alfred's mind, warning him of danger. It was quite foolish.

Alfred sighed and thought again how much he'd like to argue, but that bitter hunger shifted inside him, and grudgingly he did as Krolock had told him. He stood as quietly as he was able and closed his eyes. He felt silly to be doing nothing – it seemed to him that this vampire thing should require much more than just standing about, and maybe Krolock was joking at his expense. But to drag him here in the forest just to prank him sounded very unlike the man.

"Quiet your mind, Alfred. I've never met a vampire who is so much more intent on nonsense than feeding", the Count commanded sternly.

Alfred had half a mind to say something cheeky and outrageous, but once again he suppressed the thought. Stalling would not get him anywhere. He needed to learn this thing, no matter how much it horrified him.

So he closed his eyes again and tried to focus. And then, as his racing thoughts calmed a little bit, he began to understand what Krolock was asking of him. He could smell the still frozen earth, the dead grass under his feet, the fallen leaves of last autumn... he felt the air and it was not cold in the way that he recalled from his life. As he listened, he could hear a thousand little movements in the wood and the sensation came so strongly to him that for a moment he lost all sense of place and distance.

"Oh", he breathed out and swayed in a sudden loss of balance. Again the strong hand steadied him.

"Good. Now try reaching further out, Alfred", Krolock spoke nearby.

At first, Alfred didn't quite understand what the man meant. But he kept focusing, and soon enough he felt like his reach began to grow. Then he heard it. A steady thrum not too far away, a sound so irresistible that he began to follow it right away. His mouth felt parched. Deep inside, that terrible void grew as though it was about to consume him completely.

It took over almost at once. He was no longer in control of his own body; rather, something deadly and sinister was moving it. Vaguely he realised he was making little to no sound now, that he was moving much like Krolock himself did.

He was upon the deer so swiftly that he wasn't certain which one was more surprised, he or the animal. Alfred himself barely had idea of what to do, but that thing inside him was not so clueless.

Of the next few seconds he would not remember much later on. All that was clear and human in him vanished and blackness overcame his mind. His world was reduced to a few stark sensations of bright moonlight, the screams of the dying animal, and unimaginable pleasure as he tasted blood. And then, at last, Alfred found himself on the forest floor as the deer breathed its last under his fangs.

Coming back to his senses, he dropped the animal's corpse in horror. He crawled backwards, torn between dismay and sheer primal delight at the taste of blood in his mouth.

There was the strangest sound in the air. At first he didn't comprehend he himself was making it – it was a quiet, tearless whimpering that felt like it was tearing him from inside. As he stared at the now motionless corpse, he had to face the truth: he was truly a monster.

A pair of hands caught him gently. One of them rubbed his back and the other held him steady.

"It is all right. You did well", Krolock spoke softly.

Alfred felt wretched, even though the fresh blood now throbbed inside of him, sending waves of warmth even to his fingertips. Yet there was a curious certainty that he could have consumed more of it – much more. That void he had felt had not vanished with the feeding.

"I just murdered an innocent woodland creature and you think I did well?" he rasped, stumbling to get on his feet, but not quite managing.

"Yes, I am aware of the irony", said the Count calmly as he withdrew his hands. "But whether you like it or not, this is what you must do if you mean to exist."

Alfred grimaced. He thought of how good it would feel to get angry again. Yet at the same time, he could recall the sorrow and regret he had sensed when he had raged at the man who had turned him.

"Why did you do this to me?" he asked nevertheless, as if the Count might have a different answer this time. He did not look at Krolock, but rather stared at the deer in despair, trying to wrap his mind around the idea that he would have to get used to such sights.

"Because I am a selfish beast and I couldn't watch you die", Krolock replied quietly as he straightened himself to his full height and studied Alfred with that same ancient sadness in his eyes. And it was not just that, for Alfred felt like it was in his own breast, too, something so deep and old that his young mind and heart could hardly make sense of it.

"You must understand it at least in part", said the Count suddenly. "Why else would you have thrown yourself between me and that peasant? Do you think I felt any less desperate when you were bleeding to death?"

Alfred stared at the white face of Count von Krolock. How dearly he'd like to argue, to throw the man's words back at him and point out the flawed logic in triumph? However, His Excellency wasn't entirely wrong. He had known with absolute certainty that he would not be able to live with the memory of watching Krolock die.

"Maybe so", he replied in a strangled voice. "But at least my solution was not to take your choice from you."

The Count smiled, but the expression was quite chilling in its utter lack of humour.

"Oh, but you did. There was plenty I could have done to stop him. Even death was an option I would have accepted. When you put yourself in danger, you tied my hands", he said calmly as he folded and unfolded his hands, like the claws of some great bird of prey.

Alfred would dearly have liked to say something smart and cutting, but the Count would not be trapped by his words. It was foolish to even imagine he could excel this man in eloquence.

"I want to be able to feed without killing anybody. Can you teach me how to do it? You fed on me many times without taking my life", he said at length, turning the course of the conversation again.

Krolock sighed and cast him a resigned glance.

"It is difficult, Alfred, even for an old vampire. You do not know how many times I came close to killing you. I'm not sure it can be taught", he replied in a low voice. But then his eyes narrowed a little bit, and he went on, "But perhaps... perhaps it is not impossible. You are not like most new vampires, so it may be feasible. Still, you must not expect to be able to do it right away. You should be ready for the idea that you will kill people sooner or later."

Alfred shuddered and turned away. How he wanted to escape from inside his very skin! All the while, that empty thing inside him was stirring again, demanding more. He felt sick.

"Does it get better?" he asked at length and stared deep into the night. It was getting later now, and he guessed they would soon be returning to the castle. Rightly so. He had seen and done enough for tonight.

Krolock was silent for a while, and when he spoke, his words filled Alfred with a fresh wave of regret.

"I wish I could tell you yes."

* * *

Those first nights of Alfred's existence as a vampire were long and painful. He felt like he did not belong inside his own skin anymore, and all the new sensations that he could discern were alarming rather than a cause of wonder and curiosity. It was probably absurd of him. One would think that any scientist would be delighted to discover something like this, but Alfred felt only dismay.

If he had thought vampirism was a key to that unearthly grace that both Krolock and his son possessed, Alred soon discovered it was not so for him. He had not grown any stronger or more elegant: he still stumbled like some fool, even if he could now hear and see things more keenly than before. Grimly he pondered it was quite the joke he would remain awkward even as one of the undead. It was a bit of a shock when he first looked into a mirror and saw no reflection there. This sent him back into that grief and horror he had felt when he first woke up as a vampire, and he spent an entire night holed up in his room. But when he looked down at his arms and the rest of his body, he saw its deathly pallor and knew he looked as eerie as Krolock himself.

There were many new things now, and one of them was realising he was not as alone inside his head as before. Moods and thoughts came to him that, as he quickly realised, were not originally his own. It was disturbing at first, especially knowing his own mind was revealed to the Count just as well. On the other hand, His Excellency had been able to read him very well even before there was any mental bond between them, so it was likely he was more embarrassed than he should have been. Always he felt a strange, deep sensation when he was near the Count, and it took him longer than he was proud to admit to understand this thing he felt was a sadness as old as centuries. Until now, he had not realised it was a burden his former lover carried with him constantly. However, Alfred was still too angry with his sire to let his compassion to soften his feelings.

There was hunger, but not all of it was for blood. It took him a while to really understand, especially because it was one thing the Count did not speak to him about, even if he was generally very open about teaching his young fledgling. But when Alfred began to notice how sensitive his skin was, the way it felt at touch, and how he began to discern a sensuality that felt easier and less suppressed than during his life, he realised his sire was in his own way trying to be prudent. He couldn't say if it was good or bad, though he was inclined to believe the latter, especially when he watched His Excellency and noted he was as alluring as ever, if not even more so. As angry with himself it made him feel, Alfred had to admit he was still as attracted to his former lover as he had ever been. Once, Krolock had told him vampires were hungry creatures and it now made sense to him in an entirely new way. It was confusing and infuriating, watching his sire and growing so needy against his better judgement – and then trying to mask his feelings when the man turned his keen eyes to study him. A part of him did wonder what he would find if he just met those eyes then and openly revealed his desire, but he quickly decided it would not be anything good.

Like Krolock had implied, things did not get better as nights went by. Alfred did not grow any less hungry. There was no end to that demanding emptiness that he felt every time he opened his eyes, no matter how many creatures he consumed to sate it. At first he drank from animals only, creatures of the woods or cattle, even the occasional rat if he could catch it in the castle. Krolock accompanied him every time, instructing him how to hunt and even demonstrating his own techniques at times. He was horribly beautiful to watch when he hunted. The vampire in Alfred was inspired and even more enticed than before, coming up with awful imaginations, but the human part of him was horrified. Somehow that part of him refused to fade even as time passed.

But the Count had also said he couldn't expect to live off of animal blood indefinitely. With some defiance, Alfred had hoped to prove him wrong. Soon enough he began to realise he really was not an exception to the rule. His mind began to feel strange, less at his command, and his hunger grew more intense. Moments came when he could hardly think of anything except blood. While Alfred had been able to improve his self-control during feeding a little bit, and he did not so savagely end his animal victims, this measure of discipline began to fail him soon enough. Naturally, Krolock noticed it and imperviously told him it was time he drank human blood. At that point, Alfred was too hungry to put up a fight.

Like a sleepwalker he was lead by his sire into the woods again. At the time, he was too addled to be able to wonder about it, but later on he guessed Krolock had already arranged the whole thing. Somehow he had lured a local woodcutter deep into the forest, weaving webs of enchantment and confusion to trap him there. Then he set Alfred loose.

Even if Alfred were the clumsiest, most awkward vampire in the world, right then he was also the most hungry.

It was incredible. Blood filled his mouth, sweeter and stronger than any animal's. The more he drank, the more he craved it. His prey was no match for his bloodlust and quickly his struggling grew feebler. Alfred only latched more greedily on the wound on the man's neck. Life coursed through him like golden light, and he felt strong and vital and fierce. It felt even better than he had in the arms of his lover – something he had not thought possible.

Suddenly it was finished. The wound yielded no more blood and the body in his arms grew limp and heavy. He dropped it, still riding that wondrous high and commanded by the beastly thing inside him that was always hungry and savage.

But when the high rush began to pass, his mind became his own again and the horror of what he had done became clear. Alfred saw the body on the ground and the empty, terrified eyes. He had killed this man and he had done it like a wild animal without hesitation or remorse. Agony replaced his earlier ecstasy. And then he was sobbing in grief and heartbreak, so distraught by his own evil that he didn't even fight it when Krolock wrapped his arms around him. Instead, he just pressed his face against the fine, soft material of his sire's coat and shook in pain and sorrow. Meanwhile, a hand gently stroked his neck and his hair.

He was not certain how long they remained there, but as his shaking began to subside, Krolock shifted slightly and caught Alfred's chin in his hand. He held him in place so that the young vampire had no choice but to meet the eyes of his sire. They were strangely soft – almost compassionate, Alfred thought, but it could be he just imagined it.

"Remember this feeling, Alfred. As much as it hurts, and as much as you hate yourself right now, you will need it. If you mean to learn how to feed without killing, you must recall this moment with absolute clarity", he spoke gently. He held Alfred's face up until the moment his fledgling began to struggle away. Then the Count released him as he stumbled back on his feet.

Alfred rubbed his face even though there were no tears for him to dry. He cast a fierce glare at his sire.

"I would do well if I ended myself right now", he said hoarsely. The blood he had drunk kept on throbbing inside of him, warm and delightful. He would dearly have liked to get it all out and throw up right here. But then the man would have died for nothing and he – he would be no less monstrous.

The Count met his glare firmly.

"You will not. I forbid it, even if I must shackle you to me and watch you every moment you're awake", he spoke with weight and authority that he normally didn't use with Alfred.

For a moment they were locked in that stare – and perhaps in a battle of wills, too. But Alfred knew he was no match for this man, and if the Count decided to chain them together, he would do it. At least now he could take his distance whenever he wanted it.

"Why do you want to keep me?" Alfred asked at last. It was not really the right question, nor did it hold all that he wanted to know. But he could not phrase his confusion in any other way.

Krolock tilted his head a little bit. While his eyes retained their resolution, there was also that inscrutable barrier in them Alfred did not yet dare to try and push past. He suspected he might be able to do it and see what really moved in his sire's mind, if he tried hard. But was he ready for such a thing? Probably not.

"Because whatever you might think, my decision to turn you was not lightly made. I am responsible for you now", His Excellency replied at length. His tone was bland and remote, and Alfred knew it was as much as he was going to say.

Silently he turned away, looking once more at the dead man on the ground. His throat felt tight, but all the same he knelt next to the body, turned it on its back, and gently arranged the limp arms on the man's chest. Then he closed the now empty eyes. Guilt made the lingering taste of blood in his mouth bitter. Yet maybe it was as Krolock said, and this was what he needed to learn.

"It was going to happen no matter what. Now you know what you are dealing with", the Count said quietly from behind him.

Alfred didn't answer.

* * *

Though Alfred had agreed to be instructed by his sire, it did not mean things got back the way they used to be. Rest of his time he spent away from both Krolocks, sneaking books from the library, wandering the halls of the castle, or walking in the woods alone. He refused the idea of sleeping in a tomb, and instead continued to use his old room for such purposes. He did not dream anymore, but instead fell into this dark void where he was good as dead.

He had never guessed he would miss ordinary human sleep so much.

Although he was now a vampire, Alfred tried to retain as much of his old routine as he could. He bathed and paid heed to his appearance, even if he could no longer check it. His ghastly pallor couldn't be helped, but it didn't mean he couldn't be neat and tidy.

The Count and his son did not purposefully seek him out, but neither did they push him away with cold manners when their paths crossed. As a matter of fact, there was a mildness about Herbert's manners unforeseen until now. As for the Count, Alfred knew he was keeping an eye on him, even if the man was not in his immediate vicinity at all times. Moments came when he could feel Krolock's presence, like a faintest brush at the edge of his thoughts. As nights passed, he grew more apt to recognise it. Sometimes, Alfred didn't know what to think about the fact that he and his former lover were so connected. He felt a fair amount of disquietude when he wondered how deep that bond would go, if he cared to explore it. What would he read in his sire's thoughts, if they were revealed to him so?

Still, as angry Alfred felt over the events that had lead to his turning, he was also beginning to feel more lonely. Nights were long and grim when there was nobody he could talk to, be it about that ever-present grief in his breast, or just the book he was reading at the moment. He didn't expect the Krolocks to shun him, but on the other hand he was not ready to allow them near him. Koukol was out of question, naturally, and the rest of the coven... well, he wanted to talk to them even less than he did to the Count.

Alfred had never felt more alone. And it was while dealing with the knowledge that he could never go home now.

This fact weighed on him more than he could have guessed. It was not only impossible to explain _this _to his family, there was also the danger he would cause them deadly harm. The sheer idea made him shiver in horror and pain. If he could have dreamt, he was sure it would have been nightmares where the bodies of his entire family were lying dead in his feet. Such images were all too easily pictured.

He did not think Krolock was oblivious to how lonely he felt, but it appeared the man had decided to let him keep his distance. Perhaps he thought Alfred would come back to him in time. Alfred would dearly have liked to deny this, but deep down, he was not so certain.

Then a night came when, for a first time in some weeks, Krolock approached him. Not that he hadn't done so until now, but it had always been when he began to feel Alfred's hunger growing. Now the young vampire was sufficiently fed and so he felt surprise and curiosity when he felt the Count's presence nearing himself. At the time, he was holed up in one of the castle's towers, sitting on a window board with a book by his hand. He had not been reading it for a while, though.

"What do you want?" Alfred asked warily. Past few nights, he had been finding it slightly more difficult to hold on to his anger, which unnerved him.

"I came to inform you that I am travelling again to take care of some business. I shall be away for a few nights. But if you need anything, Herbert will help you", said the Count smoothly. He kept his distance and stood only half in light. He was arrayed in his travelling attire, which was less conspicuous than what he normally wore. Yet even then, he stood as regal and elegant as ever. Alfred cold only wonder what doors were opened to this man simply because he always appeared so naturally in command.

"Fine", Alfred merely said and turned his eyes. No matter how conflicted he felt inside, he was not ready to give in yet.

There was a silence. The space between them felt much more than it was actually, which was oddly painful. Once, he would have trusted his life in the hands of the Count and he had not hesitated in revealing his very soul – or in giving in completely. How simple things had been then.

"Very well", Krolock said at last and made a move to turn. But he halted again before he left the tower. He glanced at Alfred over his shoulder and spoke softly, "I know how you suffer, and I am sorry for it. If there is anything I can do for you, let me know."

He left without further ado and Alfred could his presence move further and further away, until the connection was so thin he had to struggle to be able to feel it. He guessed it meant that the Count had already departed.

Idly Alfred wondered if he should take this chance and make his escape. He did not long entertain that thought, however. The unfortunate truth was he had nowhere else to go and he did not trust himself around mortals. While he had improved somewhat from that first horrible encounter with the woodcutter, he was not going to be able to control himself without his sire to guide him. And to end himself – well, for all his defiance, he wasn't actually sure he could go through with it.

Indeed, he was stuck.

The nights that followed were even more quiet than usual. Herbert did not seek Alfred out, and so they both were left to their own devices. Alfred caused himself a little bit of a surprise when he dug through the bag he had packed when he had meant to leave and pulled out his manuscript. He leafed through it and immediately noticed a couple of mistakes. Something old and familiar rose in his mind, urging him to grab a pen and make corrections. That thought instantly caused him a choking feeling. He was still himself, even if he was undead. He was still a writer and a scientist. Somehow that comforted him more than most things he had tried to use as a consolation.

His Excellency was away for five entire nights. When he returned, Alfred felt it from afar. The sensation was difficult to describe when it was so new to him; the closest he came was as if some kind of a string was tightened in his head, not in a painful but curious way.

Only a few minutes later, he heard his voice: _Alfred, won't you come join us in the library? I have something for you._

For a minute Alfred deliberated whether to go or not. He could stay where he was out of sheer spite, but on the other hand, he was slightly curious – and it was so many nights since he had last spoken to anybody. If he didn't hear another voice soon, he was afraid he would go mad. So he swallowed his pride and made his way to the library.

The fireplace and the candles were lit, making it very cosy in the room. Herbert was seated on the floor and he was opening a sizeable box with the glee of a child on his birthday. The Count himself stood nearby, but he turned to face Alfred when the youngest of three vampires arrived.

"Ah, there you are. I hope you have been well for this past few nights?" Krolock inquired mildly.

Alfred wasn't certain what to say, so he just shrugged. The Count's face remained as inscrutable as ever and he was keeping a close guard of his thoughts, so Alfred couldn't say what the man made of his cool greeting.

"I brought a few things for you. I hope you like them", Krolock said and gestured at another box sitting on the table. Once again, Alfred could have refused out of spite, but his curiosity had overtaken him. What would his sire bring him from his travels?

He couldn't mask his surprise when he opened the box. There were a few newspapers and magazines, two new books, and a finely bound notebook with perhaps the most quality paper he had ever touched. He stared at these things for a moment before lifting his eyes again. The Count was studying him keenly.

"Are you bribing me?" Alfred blurted out at last. On the floor, Herbert snorted softly in laughter.

Krolock paid no heed to his son.

"No. I simply saw these at a certain shop and thought you might like them", he replied smoothly.

Alfred stared at him but his expression did not change and the tone of his thoughts did not feel insincere. The young man frowned and looked down at the notebook in his hand. He couldn't help but run his fingers over the smooth leather of its cover. It was arguably the prettiest notebook he had ever had.

Then he remembered his mother had taught him better than this and would have blushed, if he were alive.

"Thank you", Alfred mumbled and kept his eyes fixed on the book.

"You are welcome", Krolock said nonchalantly as he turned away. Alfred was secretly grateful to him for not making the moment more awkward than it already was. The Count glanced at him again quickly, "Do you need to feed? I can accompany you, if you are hungry."

Alfred shook his head. In fact he felt remarkably human tonight.

"No need. I'm fine", he replied softly and cast a calculating look at the newspapers and magazines on the table. It had been so long since he had last got any news from the world...

That was the first night since his turning that he freely spent in the presence of two Krolocks.

_To be continued. _

* * *

**A/N: **Here's a new chapter at last! I'm sorry it took this long. Still, I hope you liked it!

As ever, it was fascinating to step in Alfred's shoes and imagine what his new vampire life is like. It's pretty difficult for him because it goes so against the kind of person he used to be.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

* * *

**ghostwritten2 - **Thank you very much! I'm glad you think so - there are some great descriptions of becoming a vampire out there, so it's nice to hear I was able to write it that well!

Indeed, they may not be so finished as Alfred had thought! ;)

**Calimera - **I tend to think that Alfred would be keen to hold on to his humanity, even if it's lost. He's such a kind, decent lad - and it makes the story more interesting for me.

At the start, he's determined to be angry with Krolock and never forgive him. But I think he's already noticing that keeping that stance is not as easy as he thought.

**Monkelala - **I'm glad you found the story! Indeed, there's too little fanfiction with this pairing! :)


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When Vati returned from his trip, Herbert had a number of questions in mind. He kept them to himself for the time being, because that night, a small miracle happened: Alfred actually decided to spend it in their company out of his own choice. Herbert didn't know if Vati had yet educated his young fledgling in politics, so it was better to save this topic for later on. It was just easier that way, as it saved him and Vati from answering some questions Alfred might not be ready to make.

So he waited until before sunrise, when he and his father were making their way down to the crypt. It was a sure place for private conversation, as Alfred still refused to join them in the tomb. Not that it surprised Herbert. It had been clear from the beginning that the lad wasn't going to take to vampirism very gracefully.

All the same, he finally opened his mouth when he was following his father down the dark passage that lead to their resting place. He had noticed the old man was more quiet than normal. Obviously, he was thinking of his recent journey.

"How did your trip go? Anything interesting happen?" Herbert asked mildly.

Vati made a low, frustrated sound. It conveyed more information than a thousand words ever could.

"It was the same as usual. Pointless bickering and posturing were abundant, but at least I hope we shall be left in peace for a while", he said anyway, shaking his head slightly.

"Delightful", Herbert said and hid his wince. He cast a keen look at his father and asked, "Have you told Alfred about your office?"

"Not yet. He has enough to deal with as it is, and he's still too angry with me. I'm not certain he would want to listen. If I tried to explain, he would just be confused", Vati replied evenly.

"Nine Hells, I never thought he'd be so unforgiving", said Herbert with a shake of his head. He had thought Alfred was simply too sweet-tempered to be angry with Vati for long.

"Alfred is of the loyal type. His kind takes betrayal heavily when it comes from a loved one", Vati said. His voice was perfectly bland, but Herbert felt the grim current underneath.

"Be that as it may, you'll have to tell him sooner or later. You know the council takes interest in all your fledglings, and they would eat a sweet little thing like him in one bite", said the Viscount, knowing his father would hardly want to talk about the ruination of his and Alfred's little affair.

"Indeed they do", Vati sighed wearily and brushed a hand across his eyes. "But there is no hurry yet. Alfred is quite safe while he stays here under my guard."

That much was true. In his house, Vati reigned absolute. To touch Alfred in this place was the same as making an open challenge. Still, it was a very unlikely scenario. Firstly, most of Vati's peers did not much like his home and they avoided visiting him at all costs. Secondly, their majority preferred the status quo and had little to win by declaring a war.

There was one Herbert was not sure about, though.

"What about her? Did you see the woman?" he asked pointedly. His tone made it quite clear what and whom he meant.

Vati's eyes narrowed briefly.

"I did, however briefly. She kept her distance this time, for whatever reason; I would not expect a visit from her any time soon", he replied at length and pushed open the lid of his sarcophagus. In an even lower voice he added, "She loves her urban circumstances too well. My home is much too old-fashioned and boring for her tastes."

"But you know she will think of Alfred as a rival if she learns your history with him, no matter what happens – even if you never reconcile", Herbert pointed out.

Something steely and menacing ignited in Vati's eyes. Even now he resented the mere idea of any threat on Alfred, and Herbert knew it was not just a sire's care over a fledgling.

"There are no obligations between us and she knows that. Just as she knows that I have no interest in an alliance. To involve Alfred in it would be very unwise", Vati said stiffly, but behind it was something fierce. He seemed to shake himself and he directed a level stare at his son, "Like I said, it is not an urgent issue. He is safe for the time being. The council has no need to know of his existence – and her least of all."

Herbert made a non-committal sound and climbed in his sarcophagus. No, he didn't think Vati had considered all this when he had turned Alfred. There had been no time for such ponderations. But even so, he had a nagging feeling that sooner or later, the young man would have to learn about vampire politics and what it meant to be one of the only two existing fledglings of Count Johannes von Krolock.

* * *

Alfred had to admit it: company was nice.

He had not realised how much he actually missed it – which was bizarre, thanks to his circumstances. He had spent so many nights brooding in the dark and the silence that it felt like he had started to wither and fade, and even his voice seemed to vanish. That first night, when Krolock returned with his gifts, Alfred did not speak much himself, but he did pay close heed to every soft word exchanged between the two older vampires. Their voices were like a balm, despite the circumstances.

He joined them again the next night. Neither of the two Krolocks said anything about it; the Count merely lifted his eyes and regarded him for a bit as he took seat and delved into his magazine. Something tensed and then untensed in that bond between them, but the matter was not acknowledged in any other way and the night passed quietly. On the third night and every one that followed, it was simply expected that he would join the Krolocks, as if this was something they had been doing for a hundred years.

There was now a tentative truce between Alfred and his sire. The anger he had first felt upon his turning was more and more difficult to maintain. It grew even harder when at times he felt the man's eyes upon himself and he sensed something that distinctly felt like regret. While the Count generally guarded his mind, and Alfred had yet to learn how their mental bond worked for him, he could only assume that he could feel this from his sire because it was deep and intense. And upon realising this, it was like this burning coal that had smouldered long in his chest began to die out.

Alfred was not a pitiless man and his compassion had always been stronger than his capacity to hate.

Still, perhaps he should have known that once he began to relent, he would also start to remember what had made him fall in love in the first place.

Weeks turned into months. Summer came, bright and green, and teeming with life in the woods. Krolock still accompanied him when he went out to hunt, watching over him like a guardian devil. It was as the Count had said: holding on to that memory of horror when he had first killed a man did help Alfred to focus even when bloodlust threatened to take over. Little by little, his kills became less violent and he began to notice many various things that indicated the impending death of his victim.

But summer also presented an issue he had not expected. The sun of those months shined more intense, so that Alfred would wake up at evening quite red and sore as though he had been burned. The curtains of his chamber were obviously not sufficient for how sensitive he still was to sunlight.

Herbert was helpful enough to tell him where to find new and thicker curtains, and even point him to the direction of a ladder. The windows in his chamber were too tall for him and so a means for elevation was necessary. The Viscount conveniently vanished when Alfred went to find the ladder, but he didn't mind. While an extra pair of hands would have been useful with the heavy curtains, it gave him something useful to do.

It took him almost an entire night to get his own and the replacing curtains down: there was a lot of heavy, stiff, dusty curtain to be handled and much of his time was spent in climbing up and down the ladders. Then he had to drag it all outside to beat off at least some of the dust. If something good had to be said about his vampiric nature, at least it allowed him not to wear down while lifting and lowering and carrying the mass of old fabric. The task was time-consuming but what else did a vampire have than time?

The second night, he was busy putting up the thicker curtains in his room. It was tricky work, and at times he had to tiptoe on the ladder. Then he felt just a little bit nervous. He knew he wouldn't get hurt if he fell, but he was still human enough to dread it.

Alfred was so focused on the task, he did not even notice _his_ arrival. All of a sudden, Krolock's voice interrupted him.

"Do you require help?" His Excellency asked from the doorway. Alfred yelped in surprise and alarm and almost lost his footing, which sent the ladder into a violent swing. He was sure the whole contraption would go crashing down, but the Count swiftly moved close and steadied it.

He cast a faint smile up at Alfred.

"Do forgive me. I didn't mean to startle you", he said, still keeping his hands on the ladder as though it might collapse again.

"Well, why do you sneak around like that, then?" Alfred asked, grasping the ladder very tightly.

"It is no fault of mine if you are not paying attention", Krolock replied. His tone was not condescending – rather, he sounded like he found Alfred's distraction endearing.

The younger vampire scoffed under his breath and saw to his dismay that the curtain he had mean to hang next had fallen on the ground. He made a move to get down, but Krolock was already moving. He picked up the curtain and stepped lightly in the air.

"Really, you only had to ask", he said pleasantly as he offered Alfred the edge of the curtain.

"Yes, some people here can fly, but it doesn't matter. I don't mind the trouble". Alfred replied a little bit defensively. Was he trying to prove something? Maybe – even if he didn't quite know what it was.

"I'm here now, so you may as well let me aid you", Krolock said nonchalantly and was already fastening the curtain as though he did this on a nightly basis. He raised one eyebrow and added, "You know, if you wanted to sleep in the crypt with us, something could be arranged for you."

"Absolutely not. I like my bed much better than a damp tomb", Alfred said heatedly. The sheer idea of descending again into that cold dismal place made him shudder.

"Even if you are burned because of it?" his sire asked mildly.

"Why do you think I'm switching the curtains?" Alfred shot back, which made the Count smile.

"Suit yourself, then", he stated resumed to the task at hand.

Alfred focused his eyes on the curtain and its fastenings and tried not to look at the man hovering in the air. Why did he have to make everything look so effortless? And why had he chosen to wear red tonight? Was it because he knew that Alfred thought it suited him extremely well? He just had to come and show off his abilities and look so damn good while doing it. Meanwhile, Alfred was certain he was covered in dust and cobwebs and his skin was still recovering from sunburns. So unfair. What right did Krolock have to be doing this without losing a single ounce of his dignity and poise?

On one hand, he couldn't blush anymore. On the other, if he didn't stop at once, the Count would soon sense what was on his mind.

But now the most of the curtain was fastened, and finally they reached at the last fastening at the same time. Alfred's bare skin brushed against that of His Excellency. He was certain his heart would have stopped if it still had been beating.

Memories flooded over his mind – those recollections he had tried to suppress very hard for many weeks. He couldn't help remembering how the touch of that hand felt against his skin, the swift skill of those bony fingers, and how those arms had held and supported him. And then he thought of dark, silky hair brushing against his naked chest and the long, sweet agony he had so many times known with this man. With it came such want that it made his head light.

Maybe he could have handled it, he told himself later on – if only he had not met the blazing blue eyes and known that right then, his former lover wanted him just as fiercely.

This time, Alfred did actually fall. The ladder simply vanished from under him, and he would surely have crashed on the floor if the Count had not caught him in time. Those arms he had just fantasised about wrapped tight around him and for a moment, they both were on the brink of becoming something ferocious and uncontrollable. Heaven help him, how he wanted it then! It didn't matter what had happened, or how angry he had been, for there was still a part of him that belonged to Johannes.

Slowly Krolock unwound his arms again and took a step back. The air was thick between them still, though the immediate danger seemed to have passed.

"It is simply absurd how clumsy you can be", he said as if nothing had happened, as though it wasn't clear they had both felt it – _wanted it_ – and he picked up another curtain still waiting to be hung.

Alfred grumbled as he climbed up the ladder again and resumed to fastening the curtains. Nothing more happened between them at the time, but it was then he began to wonder if they were as finished with one another as he had previously thought.

* * *

It wasn't too long before Alfred returned to working with his manuscript. Having realised he was still as much a scientist as he had ever been, he also decided it would be terrible waste to abandon the job. He had already done so much work over it, and with little more effort, he might be able to make it fit for publication.

Not that he yet had an idea of how to go about it. Technically he was dead, but society was not aware of that fact. On the other hand, he could always use a pen name – even if that somehow felt wrong to him.

Alfred decided he could worry about publishing his manuscript and the name he'd do it under when the manuscript was actually done. With a pile of paper, he made his way once more to the library, where he had spent so many hours over his work.

Sitting down and lighting a candle, which he did more for the routine than for the need, he had some contradictory sensations. On the one hand, it was odd to resume to the text he had been working on as a mortal. On the other, it was somehow comforting. This was a part of himself that had not changed. The wealth of information he had collected during his studies was still etched in his brain and perhaps, just perhaps, as a vampire there were no limits to the things he could learn.

He was still marvelling over this revelation when the door opened again and the Count strode inside.

"Ah, good evening, Alfred. How goes your night?" he inquired pleasantly. A slight smile was on his face and he was just being _so much_ that the younger vampire had to lower his eyes quickly.

"It's fine", he muttered in embarrassment and stared down at his manuscript. A violent shiver ran down his spine when Krolock momentarily halted next to him. He would only have to lift his hand to touch the man... but he killed that thought as quickly as it appeared.

"So you are working on your book again?" His Excellency asked, still using that same pleasant tone. It was maddening.

"Yes. I thought it would be a waste to just abandon it", said Alfred, still keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the sheets before him.

"It would be a pity, indeed", Krolock agreed. "Might you be willing to show it to me some time?"

"It's not finished yet", Alfred said hesitantly and risked a glance at the man standing nearby. Another shiver went through him and he quickly looked down again. "But... I'll need a proof reader once it's done."

"Of course. I am at your disposal", said the Count. Then, thankfully, he wandered away from Alfred's side. Even then a degree of tension remained between them and the younger vampire was sure Krolock felt it just as well as he did. He took a deep breath. Strangely enough human actions like that still felt right to him.

"I can't publish it here, though, can I?" he noted at length and watched from the corner of his eye as the Count stopped to stand before a window.

His Excellency snorted.

"I'm afraid not. Such industries don't seem to find this corner of the world worth their while", he commented dryly.

Once again, Alfred began to wonder if he could ever get his book published. Not that he had expected to do so here – the plan had always been to go back to Königsberg.

The thought of home caused his heart a familiar twinge. He bit his lower lip and glanced at his sire.

"Do you think... would it be possible for me to visit Königsberg some time? See my family again?" he asked carefully. It was not because he thought Krolock would try to imprison him. Rather, he wanted to know what the man thought – if it was feasible for a vampire to be among humans.

The Count turned his head to look at Alfred.

"I would not recommend it. Even if you learn to manage your bloodlust, they will know that something is wrong. Think of all the things that crossed your mind when we first met. Why do you only appear at night? Why won't you eat anything? Why are you so cold and pale all the time? What are these strange, greedy looks you give to their necks?" he asked. His voice was not unkind, he was merely stating things he believed were facts. With a humourless smile, he added one more question, "And sooner or later... why don't you change or age?"

Alfred lowered his eyes to his lap, where his hands were curled into fists. Of course he knew the answers. He had already asked himself these questions. But that didn't mean he wouldn't like to be told otherwise.

"I miss them", he muttered softly, still staring his lap.

"I know, Alfred", came the answer, which was unusually gentle.

"Will I always have to be alone?" asked the younger vampire in a barely audible voice. Only a few weeks back, he would have been still too angry to let himself be so vulnerable before the Count. But now it was... it was different. Who else could he ask?

Johannes had turned fully to look at him. He tilted his head slightly and considered Alfred in silence for a moment.

"True companionship is rare among our kind. But not impossible", he replied at length. Before him, his claw-like hands opened and closed as if in some anxious tick.

"You've been alone for hundreds of years", Alfred pointed out and frowned. If somebody like this man couldn't find a companion, what chances did _he_ have?

"That is incorrect. Herbert would be quite disappointed if he had heard you say so", Johannes pointed out.

"I didn't mean that kind of companionship. As if it was still available for me", Alfred said, his voice rising a bit. "At least before, I could count on my father to make a match for me. Even if I didn't grow to love my wife, at least I'd have somebody. Now that's just another chance I'll never get."

"You are a young vampire, Alfred. Who knows what years will have in store for you?" said his sire softly. But the barrier was once more in place, hiding what he truly thought.

And it frustrated Alfred so much tonight. What right did Johannes have to be secretive when his mind was revealed to the man in all possible ways? Why couldn't he just once say what he really thought? So, in a bout of defiance he looked straight at the man and tried to see right through him. He knew the bond existed. He often felt it involuntarily, so why shouldn't he be able to examine it by choice?

The Count narrowed his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked and took a step towards his fledgling.

Alfred felt like he was up against a stone wall. He knew there were untold expanses behind it, could even tell it was not as impenetrable as it felt to him then. But he was too unskilled to find the way in.

"You read my mind all the time. Why can't I do the same for you?" he asked. He was a bit surprised at how belligerent his voice sounded.

"Careful, Alfred. You may not like what you would find", Krolock said in low tones. He met Alfred's eyes steadily, unshaken by his fledgling's sudden defiance.

The younger vampire rose on his feet as well. He wasn't certain of how the conversation had taken this turn, but he felt like he couldn't go back. He had to... had to... well, he didn't know really what he was trying to achieve. Maybe just be _heard_. Just feel like he still had a voice.

"I'd like to decide that for myself", he stated, staring straight into the eyes of his sire. He couldn't have looked away if he had wanted to; the tension between them now became like a magnetic force. Despite himself, he took a step towards the man.

Johannes mirrored his movement. His eyes burned like blue flames, even though his expression was otherwise as bland as though they were talking about the weather. The wall was still up, but Alfred fancied he could almost feel what was beyond it.

"You ask an awful lot", Johannes said, somehow managing to sound both smooth and extremely menacing. There had been a time this particular tone would have made Alfred fear for his life, but now it made him want to fly across the room and throw himself at the man. And this sensation was not human at all – it was the vampire in him that was trying to break free.

Still, it was the human part that answered.

"You're the one who turned me. You chose to bind me. And now you would deny me my rights?"

Well, maybe it wasn't _completely_ human.

The way they were now stalking one another was something else. Alfred could feel Johannes' terrible focus, but behind it, there was such hunger that even he couldn't conceal.

He halted before Alfred and lifted the younger man's chin with the tips of his fingers.

"Such bold demands could get you in trouble", he said with deceptive mildness.

"I'll take my chances", Alfred replied, staring at his sire with wide eyes, and feeling quite certain that something very serious was about to happen in a matter of few seconds.

But it was not to be. It was then the door of the library was opened once again, and Herbert strode swiftly inside.

"Vater, do you -" he started to speak as he entered. However, words died on his lips when he took in the scene before him. His eyebrows rose to make the intimate acquaintance of his hairline and his mouth formed a small "o". Alfred had never thought to be able to surprise Herbert von Krolock, but that was what he saw on the blond man's face then.

However, he considered this only for the briefest moment. For it was then he jerked back to his senses and realised what had just happened. He felt so embarrassed, he wished he could just sink through the floor and never reappear.

Krolock's hand fell down the same moment Alfred startled away. Mumbling a half-coherent apology, he grabbed the manuscript on the table and dashed out.

* * *

After Alfred had ran out, there were few long minutes of silence between Herbert and his father. Vati stood motionless, seemingly staring at nothing.

"What exactly was that?" Herbert asked at last, though he wasn't sure if he wanted a direct answer. Too much information was a concept he was familiar with, even if most people who met him wouldn't believe so.

"... I got carried away", Vati replied reluctantly. It actually seemed like he was embarrassed to be caught red-handed. It was quite entertaining, because it was so rare an occurrence. Usually, the old man was much more discreet.

Herbert raised both his hands in a congenial gesture.

"I'm not judging. Anything that brings down the amount of brooding in this house, I approve of very much", he said pleasantly. He couldn't help but enjoy his father's discomfort a little bit

Vati glared at him.

"I suggest you mind your own business, Herbert", he said coolly.

"Still, you must understand why I'm surprised. I thought he was still angry with you", Herbert pointed out and sauntered to take seat. Not that he was astonished that his father and the young man were acting so. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the two had some unfinished business. He hadn't just expected them to get to it so soon.

"He is. But he is also a young vampire. He'll have hard time fighting certain impulses... it is not really himself. As his sire, it's my duty to hold back", Vati said, and his tone was as stiff as his back.

Herbert raised an eyebrow. Surely his father was taking this responsibility more seriously than he would have expected. Yes, he had taken very good care of Herbert back when he was first turned. However, Herbert was his own, dearly beloved son. It had made perfect sense for Vati to make every effort for his sake. But Alfred was a lover scorned whose only two moods these days seemed to be hostile and suspicious.

As such, Herbert couldn't resist teasing his father.

"My my. Are you becoming sentimental in your old age, Vati?" he inquired lightly.

That earned him another deadly glare.

"Please spare me your nonsense, Herbert", Vati said in a long-suffering tone and turned away. His disgruntled mood was so tangible in the room, the Viscount didn't even need their fledgling and sire's bond to feel it.

Herbert did not continue teasing his father at the time. Still, he had to admit he was curious. Was Alfred just another hungry young vampire, or was he still in love with Vati?

Vater had his guilt, so he'd believe the former. As for Herbert, he was curious enough to wonder if it might be the latter, after all.

* * *

_I'm supposed to be angry with Johannes, not dally and flirt with him like some air-headed fool! _

With a groan, Alfred fell on his stomach on the bed. He groaned out loud. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could see the face of his sire and those blue eyes staring at him greedily. And no matter how he struggled, he couldn't deny it had thrilled him.

On principle, he should stay as angry as he had ever been. But Johannes made it so difficult to remember. In fact, Alfred had no trouble being angry when the man was not anywhere near him, but the moment they stepped in to the same room, his attitude proved to be pointless.

He groaned again and turned on his back. These contradictory feelings were maddening. At the same time, his head throbbed with how betrayed he had felt, and yet it was so easy to picture His Excellency sauntering towards him with that arrogant, attractive smirk on his face... the mere idea made him ache with want.

It was the beginning of that same old circle he had been through a hundred times now. He had no other place to go, he was dangerous, and at least he was little less alone in the castle. It was starting to look like he had no options left, and no direction to take. Was this how Johannes felt like?

On the other hand, maybe there was at least one thing left. The knots in his stomach grew tighter when he thought of the scene in the library, and what could have happened if Herbert had not interrupted them...

Could the consequences of _that_ be worse than the current impasse? Even if it turned out destructive... well, it would be a change, at least. On the other hand, didn't that mean betraying himself?

Alfred rubbed his face wearily. Would a time ever come that things would start to make more sense to him? Or was his life – his existence – permanently upside down? Unfortunately, he had no answer.

All the same, he decided to keep some distance between himself and the two Krolocks for a few nights, as if that might help to put his thoughts in order. No such thing had happened so far when he had been avoiding them, so maybe it was silly to try. However, he did not have a lot of options at this point.

So it was the following night he took his manuscript and made his way to his usual hiding place in the north tower of the castle. It had a fine view over the woods and towards the mountains, but it was also generally a place others in the castle did not bother visiting. It had been a bit dismal first, but he had brought a few things to make it more comfortable, including a few carpets, some candles, a pillow to sit against, and certain little decorative objects he had spotted here and there in the castle. Alfred had not bothered to ask for a permission. For one, he had decided he deserved at least this much, and secondly, there had been a point when such small acts of defiance had brought him a measure of resentful pleasure. It was petty, perhaps, but he had not much else left.

However, when he arrived, he saw the round room on the top of the tower was occupied. Herbert was lounging on his spot on the window board, idly leafing through a small, worn book.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you", Alfred stammered in embarrassment and also a bit of disappointment. He had thought this one place was his own, where others wouldn't come hunting him. Apparently, that was untrue.

He meant to back out, but Herbert cast him a winning smile and started up on his seat.

"Then you will be most delighted to hear that I'm not disturbed at all. I came here to talk to you", he said lightly, much to Alfred's surprise.

"To talk to me?" the younger of the two repeated in surprise and doubt. "About what?"

"Just to chat. We haven't really spoken since you were turned, you see", Herbert said and patted the place next to himself in invitation. Alfred did not make a move to take a seat.

"I didn't feel like I had much to say to you. Or anybody", he said warily, holding his manuscript tightly against his chest as though Herbert was going to steal it from him.

"Hmm. That is unfortunate. One would think we'd have a lot to talk about, seeing we were both turned by Vati. It makes us rather uniquely connected, don't you think?" asked the blond man.

"I suppose", Alfred said, mostly because he didn't know what else he could answer.

Seeing the young man wasn't going to say anything else, Herbert continued to make effort for them both.

"So, how are you adjusting to being a vampire? I trust Vati is teaching you well?" he asked pleasantly and sat up straighter.

"I'm adjusting as well as can be expected", Alfred replied at length. Why was Herbert asking him such things? Had Johannes sent him to spy on Alfred? On the other hand, why would he have to ask Herbert do his dirty work when he could very well read his fledgling's mind?

"Indeed? I had thought you were putting even my father to shame by how much you're brooding", Herbert noted. He didn't sound mean-spirited – rather, his voice conveyed warm concern.

"It's a lot to take in. You can't expect me to just accept it right away", Alfred said little bit defensively.

"Nobody expects that, Alfred", Herbert said, gesturing wildly with his hand as if to suggest the m mere idea was absurd. "But if I may tell you so, it helps to focus on what's good. Just consider all the books you get to read now, all the skills you can learn, and places you can travel!"

Alfred regarded the Viscount doubtfully. It wasn't like he had seen the two Krolocks travel much during his stay here. Well, the Count himself had made those two trips, but... he stopped the thought there, realising he didn't even know where the man had gone. Either way, he had spent less than a year in Castle von Krolock and that was probably not a meaningful amount of time for two vampires who had already lived for centuries.

"That is well and good, but I'll still be alone", he said at length, and his voice was softer and more vulnerable than he had intended.

Herbert appeared to have caught something of interest in his words. He leant forward and regarded Alfred keenly.

"Is that the crux of the problem, then? Your desire for a companion that will not wither and die?" the Viscount wanted to know. His green eyes glittered in a way that unnerved Alfred just a bit. He had revealed more than he had intended, hadn't he? The idea of Herbert jumping into conclusions did not console him one bit.

"I would say the crux is that I was turned into an undead beast against my will and it can never be undone", Alfred said stiffly.

Herbert groaned out loud.

"You're still hung up on that? Oh please. Surely you must realise that Vati already punishes himself for it more than you ever could", he said and shook his head. He made the rather distinct impression that the whole matter frustrated and confused him a great deal, but was playing along out of niceness.

"So you think I should forgive him out of sparing him?" Alfred asked sharply and stood very straight, even though he knew his small, skinny form was not going to intimidate anybody, least of all Herbert von Krolock.

"Of course not. I'm just pointing out there are certain facts you cannot change about what you are, no matter how long and bitter your regret is. Being angry may give you gratification at the moment, but it won't sustain you endlessly. However, if you accept the facts, you may discover there are still things that bring you joy", Herbert replied calmly.

Alfred gritted his teeth. The Viscount was just like his father, easily evading him by clever words that made it difficult to argue back.

"Then what would you have me do?" he asked eventually.

Herbert shrugged.

"Just give it a chance. Stop being so afraid of everything. And stop putting yourself in bounds like this. You're not a human anymore, Alfred", he said in a gentle sort of way, as one might teach a slow-witted child.

"If I do that, then I will truly be dead", said Alfred reluctantly.

"Principle won't save you now, Alfred. Nor will it make you human again. You can accept the facts or perish. I know the latter option would break my father's heart", said the Viscount, his tone turning surprisingly solemn all of a sudden.

Alfred glared at the blond man.

"If he _had _a heart, then none of this would have happened", he stated in defiance. He wasn't sure he actually thought so, or if the words were inspired by his growing frustration at this conversation. Either way, Herbert just gave him a humourless smile.

"And if you truly think that, then you don't know him at all", he said calmly.

With that, Alfred decided he wasn't going to get on the top of this conversation. So he just groaned and turned around, and then made his way out of the tower. Still, many of the things Herbert had said to him stayed in his thoughts for many days and weeks to come.

_To be continued. _

* * *

**A/N:** I hope you like this new chapter! :)

It's fascinating as ever to examine Alfred's inner conflict over what to do. He believes he can't be true to himself unless he's angry with Johannes, but at the same time he's finding just how difficult that is - and maybe things aren't all black and white.

Meanwhile, there may be a bigger world of vampires out there than he realises...

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

* * *

**ghostwritten2 - **I'm glad you liked the chapter! I think it wouldn't be like Alfred not to feel conflicted. His current situation is quite overwhelming and confusing. But, like you said, things aren't so simple when it come to Johannes. At the same time, it maybe helpful to discover that he hasn't lost himself completely, but is still a scientist.

**Calimera - **Thank you! I do love writing Alfred! He's fascinating and complicated, though I don't think he gets enough credit for it from a lot of people in the fandom. It's certainly easier to write him as a human (as that's what he is for the most of the show), but it's also interesting to picture him as a vampire. This is my own headcanon of course, but I like to think that the circumstances of turning are important. So because Krolock turned him to save him, it also reflects on what kind of a vampire he is. On the other hand, I want to believe that Alfred's mind and heart are pure enough that he doesn't turn into a complete monster.

But yes, I think Alfred's current situation does remind Krolock a lot of his own turning, the grief he felt and how he tried to fight it at first as well. At the same time, he can't bear to let it be in vain.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

There was a relative quiet in the castle over the course of several nights that followed. Herbert knew not to trust it, though: there was an undercurrent in the air that even the most oblivious idiot would discern.

It was uncomfortably familiar. Just as once before, Vati and his new fledgling were dancing around one another, stalking the other like a cat would a pot of cream. It was a frustrating thing to watch, but also disturbing. Firstly, he had thought he wouldn't have to see this exact thing again. Secondly, he really didn't need to know about his father's love affairs. One would be traumatised for life for less and really, if anybody in this castle should be so entangled in a dark romance, it was _him_. Not that he had interest in having the accompanying feelings, which seemed to be giving Vati such trouble, but that was precisely why he would be able to appreciate the fun for what it was.

Unfortunately gullible young men did not fall from the sky every night, and instead of having a distraction of his own, Herbert was stuck watching this annoying circle turn around once more.

And what a disruptive thing it was. Both stealing glances when the other was not looking, sometimes curious and sometimes exasperated, keeping a wide berth between themselves as though avoiding something diseased, and speaking with false indifference that fooled nobody. The looks Vati kept giving his fledgling were particularly disgusting, while Alfred appeared as though a meek lad who has never been courted before. It was ridiculous.

A night came that it was particularly bad. One might think that the insufferable duo were seconds away from leaping at one another like a pair of wild animals, never mind the fact that Herbert was right there in the room with them. Even Alfred, who normally was so oblivious to such nuances, seemed to be so on the edge that finally he just excused himself and swiftly made his way out of the library, clutching his manuscript to his chest. Vati stared after him like an exceptionally ravenous wolf.

"Nine Hells, Vati, this is really starting to get old", Herbert pointed out and lowered his eyes on his magazine once more.

Vati scoffed. Most like, if Herbert tried to pry on his thoughts right now, he would be making a most valiant effort to appear disinterested. He didn't even bother to speak the usual excuses of how he couldn't possibly abuse his position as Alfred's sire in such a way.

"If that is true, then why do you invite all this nuisance? Wasn't once enough for you?" Herbert inquired. Truth be told, he really didn't care much what the two idiots decided to do, as long as they _did_. Whichever option made Vati happy was what Herbert would prefer, but mostly he just wanted them to be over with it already.

"You do not understand", Vati said in a low, blank voice.

Herbert snorted softly.

"Be honest with me, Vati. What is it about this young man that makes it so hard to let go of him? At this point, it really can't be because he's an innocent little thing for you to corrupt", he pointed out and directed an expectant stare at his sire.

Vater glared back, but his expression was lacking in force and intensity. Then something resigned appeared on his gaunt features and he let out a quiet but deep sigh.

"When you look at him from afar, you don't expect to find anything remarkable. But then he directs his eyes at you, and you see such clarity, such solidity, as I have never perceived before", he replied in a reluctant voice, though it also hinted at nothing but the truth.

Herbert blinked. Well, he hadn't expected Vati to admit it so straightforwardly. He rarely did put his follies to words.

Eventually, he couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, Vater, how soft you are in your heart of hearts."

If looks could kill, Vati's glare would have slain him right then and there.

* * *

"Let's face it. I can't do this", Alfred finally stated in frustration and gave a kick to a small loose stone.

They had been having one of their lessons: tonight, the Count had tried to teach him how to fly. Yet no matter how Alfred tried, he found himself as bound to the gravity as before. He had yet to perform supernatural abilities and he was starting to think he had none.

"Well, perhaps your gifts will manifest with time", Krolock relented at last and stepped back on the rampart. He had been trying to persuade Alfred to step into the air – and even promising to catch him, if it didn't work. But though Alfred knew he wouldn't get hurt, an instinctive fear of falling still remained.

"Or maybe nothing won't. Everything is so easy to you, I don't think you even comprehend it's not like that for the rest of us", Alfred said in accusation. He turned around to look over the wall, gazing over the dark woods that surrounded the castle. The first summer of his vampiric existence had passed and autumn had come. With each night, his old life got further away from him. Often he thought of his family and what they made of his continuing absence. His heart ached as he imagined their fear and concern. And yet, though he had started ten different letters by now, he had yet to send a single one of them. In the end all words failed. There was no way he could ever plausibly explain what had happened to him – and why he couldn't come home.

Some nights were easier, others were almost unbearable.

"That is untrue. I am well aware that I am superior to most people", said the Count as he came to stand next to Alfred. Anybody else might have taken his statement at face value, but Alfred knew his voice well enough to hear the humour in it. A strange thing in itself, really: that he of all people would have this degree of familiarity with Krolock.

He snorted all the same and leant against the wall. After the affair with curtains, he was finding it more and more difficult to keep his distance. He now knew he was still as partial as ever to the man's charms and there was strong evidence that His Excellency had similar notions concerning him. It was a sure recipe for trouble if they were not careful. Every now and then, he could feel tension ripple between them. And he was so, so tempted. To fall would be easy, but did either of them have strength to turn back? Alfred wasn't so sure.

"You're so full of yourself."

At that, His Excellency simply laughed. As ever, Alfred could not listen to that rare sound without a strange warm ripple in his breast. This lightness between them recalled that brief, sweet time when they had been lovers. But as soon as Alfred thought that, the warmth he had felt became a painful twinge. It was with some surprise that he realised he actually rather missed the simplicity of those nights they had spent together.

They stood there in silence for a while. Alfred thought of everything and nothing as he regarded the wood and the starlit sky. He could tell it was chilly, but naturally that did not bother him anymore. He wondered if he'd ever get used to how things felt to him now, or if it would always remain strange and uncomfortable in a way – if he'd always miss the human perception of the world. Granted, his vampire senses allowed him a view to everything around him that he couldn't have imagined, but still… it did not feel like his own.

Next to him His Excellency stood still and quiet, face lifted slightly and eyes closed. At first Alfred didn't know what he was doing but then he realised his sire was simply breathing and taking in the smells and sounds of the night and the forest. In this late hour he looked even more unreal than usual. Moonlight was on his long, dark hair, and it made the silver in it shine as though beams of pure starlight.

Alfred turned his eyes quickly back to the wood again. It was never a good sign when he started to wax poetic about the Count.

Even so, he did think there was a certain familiarity between them tonight. He didn't feel tense or angry or wary. Maybe, then, it was all right to ask something that he had wondered about at times, especially after his initial shock and turmoil had started to calm.

"May I ask you something?" Alfred spoke softly, but without looking at the Count.

"You may, and I may answer", said the older vampire.

"I had wondered... back before that night I died... you didn't have to let it happen. I mean, if you knew from the start that the Professor was alive, you had plenty of time to make sure I never found out. So why did you let me discover the truth?" Alfred spoke slowly, still keeping his eyes fixed in the wood down below, even if he did not really see it anymore. He was little bit afraid what he might see if he did look at his sire.

Krolock did not answer at first. He remained so still, one might have thought he had not heard the question. But of course that was not the case.

"At first, I did not think it was worth my while to do anything about the man. I didn't even expect you to live long enough to find out about it. You did survive those first dangerous days, though, and then we started our affair. Even then I knew there were only two ways it could end. Either I would kill you, or you would have to leave. And... eventually I decided I wanted the latter option for you. It is the best any vampire can offer to a human, no matter what their private feelings may be", he began, speaking so suddenly that it almost made Alfred startle. Yet his voice was slow and quiet, like every word was uttered with great effort.

Alfred opened his mouth to point out that didn't really answer his question, but Krolock continued to talk.

"However, I had done my sinister work a little too well and you had come to love me. It was a problem. How could I make sure you would be able to go home and live your life without doubts, to keep you from second-guessing if you should have stayed, after all? I did not want to ruin the rest of your life with some misguided notion that things would have been better if you stayed with me", Krolock said, so calm and even that it was as though he was talking about weather. But when Alfred turned to face him, he saw the way those brilliant blue eyes burned. The sincerity in them was almost painful.

"Then... then what did you mean to happen?" Alfred whispered.

"I expected you would go down to the village sooner or later and find the old man alive. It would make you angry and disappointed. You would think I had betrayed you. In other words, you would be able to leave without a single part of you feeling like you should stay... and in time, you would move on. Then I would merely become a footnote in your book, not a phantom that kept you from being all that you dreamt. It was the only way I could give back your life", Johannes answered and stared at him still with that same brutal honesty. Not a single muscle moved in his white face, but it was only a façade, for between them was no veil now, and his sadness and regret were so heavy that it made Alfred feel like a human would, like he couldn't breathe.

He stared at Johannes with wide eyes. Now at last the events of the night he had died and their last conversation truly began to make sense to him. Until this moment, it had troubled him because he had not understood fully what had taken place. Knowing the truth did not banish the sadness and pain of that night – maybe nothing would – but one thing it did: it burned down the last of what anger he felt for what Johannes had done to him.

He lowered his eyes, knowing very well he couldn't meet those flaming eyes while he made his next question. Even then, his voice was barely a whisper when it came out.

"Did you love me?" he asked, staring hard at the ground.

There was no immediate answer. Johannes moved closer and caught his chin between his strong, bony fingers. That touch sent a sensation like electricity all the way back to Alfred's skull and he was powerless to resist when his chin was gently lifted.

Those blue eyes staring at him were much softer than he had expected. And somehow he knew the answer even before it was uttered.

"Yes. I did", Johannes replied.

And with that confession, it all crashed down. Whatever this thing was, it was not over. Alfred could very well keep pretending and avoiding Johannes, but it didn't change the truth – it didn't remove the fact that he was still very much in love. And if he knew that, then Johannes did too, because in this moment, for the first time, his mind was fully open to that strange bond that now tied them together.

Which of them moved first he couldn't say, and it was next to impossible in any case, for they were standing so close to one another. He only had time to let out a small sigh before he felt those lips against his own once more, and that sweet sensation took him back to their first nights together – wiping away all the grief and heartache that had come later. Yet there was no urgency or hunger. It was simply a quiet, tender exchange between two people who knew each other as well as one ever could and had nothing more to prove between themselves.

It went on for a long while, and Alfred melted swiftly against Johannes' taller frame. His hands trembled as first as he pressed his fingers against Krolock's waist. Something overwhelming beat in his head and his breast, a mixture of emotions so powerful that it made him dizzy. He was so relieved and full of wonder, and he was safe and sound and anchored high beyond the reach of all that sorrow and loneliness that had gnawed at him for months. He never wanted to go back to feeling that way, but instead stay right here, because without Johannes the night was cold and long and comfortless. When the tall man added more pressure against his mouth and grazed it with his tongue, he let out a small whimper and succumbed like the helpless fool he was.

Alfred felt a little bit like many nights passed while they remained there, stars wheeling over them and the moon waxing. Perhaps only a vampire, a creature unaffected by time, could lose their sense of hours like this. But at long last, Johannes pulled back a little bit, though he still remained close; one hand he kept against Alfred's back while the other he used to brush his fingers across his cheek.

"Are you still angry with me?" he asked softly.

The younger of the two vampires shut his eyes momentarily, hoping it would help him get his thoughts in order. It didn't help much, what with the way they were still so closely pressed against one another and that bond between them felt like an actual heartbeat. It was so new and strange, because until now, he thought both of them had been wary of truly exploring the possibilities of it.

He took a deep breath and hoped he could speak coherently enough.

"No, I'm not. I can't be anymore", Alfred uttered at length. His voice sounded too hoarse to be his own.

A faint smile appeared on the face of his sire.

"I am glad to hear it, even if it's not the same thing as forgiveness."

"It's not. But even so, I... I can't do this without you", Alfred said, so quiet that it was barely even a whisper. All the same, it was the honest truth. He had no more strength left to keep soldiering on his own.

Johannes let out a sigh.

"I cannot pretend I understand why", he said in low tones, "but if that is what you require of me... very well."

Then he kissed the younger vampire again, and it was with greater passion this time. Now Alfred latched on to him as boldly as he ever had, grasping the Count's head between his hands and holding him right there. It was almost shocking. He didn't feel just his own delight at this contact, but that of his partner as well, pushing and pressing and twining. The sensation was so much, Alfred had to pull back and just stare at his sire in wonder.

"What was _that_?" he stammered, not because he didn't know, but more to just declare his shock. Johannes let out a low, throaty laugh.

"You know what it is. I turned you, and so you feel what I feel. It's... a bit interesting when you do this sort of thing between a sire and a fledgling", he replied. The slight raise of his eyebrows did not leave things to imagination.

"Is it normal for... for vampires?" Alfred asked. He still had hard time including himself in that category, even if he had been one of the undead for months now.

"Not by any means. Most of our kind don't want to be bound in such a way", Johannes replied with some condescension, probably because he considered very few even among vampires to be his equal. He then smiled faintly and added, "But we are not like the most, and you – you won't be denied, as it seems."

"What do you mean by bound?" Alfred asked with a small frown.

"What do you think? Simply that nobody else in the world will feel this way to you", said the Count, and to emphasise his point, he did a very delightful thing that involved his tongue, some teeth, and Alfred's earlobe. The younger of the two let out a low, primal sound that surprised even himself. At the same time, he felt a tremor from his sire, greed and eagerness to take it further. It was shocking and undoubtedly tempting.

"B-but you're not afraid to be bound", he stammered after regaining some coherency again.

"Some may enjoy philandering", Johannes said indifferently as he finally unfastened his arms from around his young companion. "But it has never brought me contentment. So why not?"

He directed a keen stare at Alfred.

"One has to wonder. Are _you_ afraid to be bound?" he asked in a lowered voice, as though he was asking something ominous.

"No. Being alone is far more scary", Alfred replied in a whisper.

The Count tilted his head and regarded him curiously.

"What a strange young man you are. You're always scared of the wrong thing", Johannes said with a slight shake of his head.

"You don't get to decide that for me", Alfred said defensively, which brought a faint smile to the face of His Excellency.

"No, I suppose I don't. But do I at least get to have an opinion?" he asked mildly.

"You will have one anyway, whether I give permission or not", Alfred remarked, at which the Count's smile widened.

"Indeed", he replied and reached for the young man once again, seemingly despite of himself. His fingers grasped Alfred's hips tightly and his kiss was slightly more demanding. Yet again he stopped it before Alfred could really adjust and respond. The tall man pulled back and gave him a narrow stare.

"Have care, Alfred. Don't think I wouldn't devour you still, if you gave me the opportunity."

Of course he couldn't just say _"I still want you"_. It had to be a sensual and menacing statement like that!

* * *

A couple of nights passed after their confrontation on the wall. That time reminded Alfred curiously of when they had first admitted their interest in one another: there was tension and want and a thousand unspoken things always just beneath the surface, eager to emerge at faintest provocation. It would be so easy to fall again and explore what it could be now. Yet a degree of wariness lingered, too, especially for Alfred himself. On one hand, he would be lying if he said he wasn't severely tempted. But on the other, he did feel a degree of guilt over the fact that he couldn't stop wanting the man who had turned him.

All the same, it was true what he had said to Johannes: he could not do this on his own.

While he was not so keen on avoiding his sire or Herbert anymore, moments still came when solitude invited him. This particular night, he did not go seeking their company but curled up on the window board in his room. His manuscript was next to him, but his mind wandered as he watched the rain beat against his window. Summer had gone by and autumn was here. Soon an entire year would have passed since he had left Königsberg. No letters had been sent since his final one, and he could only imagine how his family was taking it. It was a strange thing, the way his heart still ached so deeply, even now that it was now longer beating. Yet how could he ever see them again if he was not certain if he could control his bloodlust near them?

A soft knock at the door interrupted his grim thoughts. Then it opened and Johannes strode inside, so light and effortless as though he was walking in the air. Small shiver went down Alfred's spine. The scene was all too familiar to him and he could recall his pain at the thought of leaving as though he had felt it only yesterday. What irony. Now he could never leave!

"Is something amiss, Alfred? I could feel your dreary mood all the way back in the crypt", said the Count as he came to take seat on the edge of Alfred's bed. Somehow he was able to make it look like he was sitting on a throne.

"Are you spying on me?" Alfred asked back warily. He wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that Johannes had such an intimate knowledge of his mind now. On the other hand, he was fairly certain his sire had figured him out long before this bond had been made.

"Of course not. It is hardly my fault if you are being loud", Johannes said smoothly, brushing non-existent dust from his sleeve.

Alfred frowned at the man. He always had to be so clever and suave.

"How does it work, anyway? You still haven't explained", he noted and tried not to think of how the Count was sitting on his very bed, and he only had to take a few steps to get to him... something ravenous stirred in the bottom of his stomach and that tremor went between them once more. Blue eyes flashed momentarily, revealing that his little lapse did not go unnoticed, but otherwise Johannes did not react to it.

"Think of it as a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger it gets", said the Count, as calm as ever. "You are still young and not particularly good at cloaking your mind. You can practice it to a certain degree, but even then, I will always feel your emotions when they are particularly strong. However, if you were to leave this castle and go live in distant lands, then the bond would become hardly more than a frayed thread."

"But if I got close to you again, and we were... we were lovers, for example, then I would feel you all the time?" Alfred asked in a thin voice. That greedy thing shifted again, but he grit his teeth hard and pressed his hands into fists. He felt so wanton to find this simple conversation so challenging. But Johannes had once said that vampires were hungry creatures, and now Alfred surely understood what he had meant by it.

"It would be more effortless, yes", Johannes affirmed with a slight nod of his head.

Alfred made a non-committal sound and fixed his eyes on the window again, watching rain drops slither down the surface. Should he be nervous over this? Maybe at the start he might have felt so. But on the other hand, things that had once been important now hardly seemed to matter. Other concerns, so far away until his turning, had become significant. Everything was upside down now... but one thing remained, as he realised then.

Johannes was the constant, and so was all that he felt for the man.

"Now, are you going to tell me why you are so moody tonight?" His Excellency inquired mildly, thus interrupting Alfred's current epiphany.

The young man swallowed as his mind returned to that thought which had been on the top of his mind ever since he had woken up.

"Today is my birthday. Maybe you'll understand why it feels odd", he said, though his voice threatened to collapse even before it left his mouth. He swallowed hard and tried to speak more evenly, "Are vampires supposed to take notice of their age?"

It seemed to him that the blue eyes grew a little softer.

"I think it depends on yourself. Is it important to you?" Johannes asked back.

"Well, I guess I'm still human enough to care", Alfred said quietly and lowered his eyes. Without raising them he asked, "What about you?"

"I can't say that I care in the same way as you do, but I do keep count", said his sire. He let out a sigh before continuing, "I was born in winter on a night of new moon. My mother was superstitious and you can imagine the doubts she had. It is fitting irony, I suppose, that she wasn't so wrong in the end."

Alfred's head rose swiftly. He had never heard Johannes speaking of his mortal life in this way, and even less of its earliest part. When you looked at this graceful, mysterious man, it was hard to recall that he too had once been an ordinary human.

There were a thousand things he wanted to ask, but Krolock spoke again before he could open his mouth.

"Funny. Somehow I expected you would be a child of spring", he said and smiled faintly. For whatever reason, his words made Alfred forget what he had meant to ask, and the young man stared at the old vampire in mute wonder. The sensation only grew when the Count rose and came to sit next to him on the window board. He was being so forthcoming, it took Alfred completely unawares and made him quite defenceless.

"At any rate, it's a shame to be spending your birthday alone. I don't even have a present for you", Johannes noted.

"I-It's fine. You got me those magazines and the book recently. I don't need anything", Alfred hurried to say. He would surely have blushed, had he been human.

"Still", his sire uttered, lowering his voice, "Perhaps there is something..."

He was leaning closer, capturing Alfred with the sheer force of his brilliant eyes, and whether he decided his present was kissing the young man or throwing him out of the window, right then Alfred was ready for either option. Thankfully it was the former.

The kiss was slow and deep, and maybe it was just in his mind, but Alfred felt like it recalled some of their happiest moments together. His thoughts became quiet and calm, melancholy left him, and all he cared about was the man before him. Bony hands gently brushed his cheeks and settled against the sides of his head, while his own grasped at the Count's shoulders very tightly. It felt so right, more so than anything had since the moment he had woken up as a vampire.

Johannes was the one to end the kiss, but he did not pull very far back. He regarded Alfred with a look that seemed to pierce him through.

"Happy birthday, Alfred", he said quietly, still close enough for his breath to brush Alfred's face.

"Thanks", uttered the younger of the two. He felt dizzy and dream-like in the most delightful way. All the grim facts of his current existence had simply vanished.

A faint smile touched the face of his sire. He shifted and rose up on his feet again, towering over Alfred. He beckoned with his hand for the younger vampire to follow; the graceful movement briefly transfixed Alfred where he was.

"Come along, then. I will not allow you to spend your birthday moping alone in your room", he announced in a voice that wouldn't stand any objections. Seeing he had nothing better to do, he got up and decided to follow.

_To be continued. _

* * *

**A/N: **I return with an update at last! I was having bit of a dry spell lately, but finally this week I was able to finish this chapter. I do hope you like it. :)

The bit at the start with Herbert and Krolock was inspired by a recent conversation with the ever wonderful Calimera.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

* * *

**ghostwritten2- **I'm glad you liked it! :) Yes, it is incredibly hard for Alfred to hold on to his anger, and perhaps in this chapter he realises there may not be a point in attempting it. As for Herbert, he really doesn't have patience for having to watch this little routine of theirs again!

**Calimera - **I'm afraid the mystery woman must remain mysterious for the time being! But we'll see how that goes. :)

I think the interesting thing about Alfred here is that in some ways he's changing, and in others he's still very much the same - perhaps even to the point that surprises his sire!

You are right about Herbert - he does give a chance for some less tense scenes!

**anon - **Thank you very much! I am glad if the chapter meant so much to you. :) And I must admit, I do enjoy writing all that tension!


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

He was slipping.

Alfred knew that much whenever he dared to steal a look at his sire these nights; every time, he felt that all too familiar flutter in the bottom of his stomach, which quickly had him averting his gaze.

_Well, what did you expect, you fool,_ he told himself fiercely whenever he slipped, _you're the one who lets him kiss you._

It wasn't by any means the same thing as before his turning, and there still was more of avoiding and denial than there was surrender. Yet he could tell it was not very far from becoming just that, and more. His new vampiric hunger was a formidable thing, and the more he gave in, the more he burned.

Still, it would have been one thing if Johannes kept enticing just that part of him. But he was also being... well, not nice, but pleasant in his own strange, menacing way. And he was just that the night Alfred finally decided his book was done.

Only, this also introduced him a problem he had not thought of beforehand: now he had nothing to write or work on anymore.

He was mulling over this fact in the library, and hour or so after sunset, when Johannes arrived.

"Good evening, Alfred. How goes your night?" he asked with a faint smile, like he did almost every night.

"Same as usual", said Alfred fixing his eyes on the first page of his manuscript before him. "I finished my book."

"Did you now? That is good news. Does it mean I finally get to read it?" Johannes inquired as he halted next to the table.

"I suppose", Alfred allowed, although he did feel a bit worried His Excellency was going to butcher the end product, and then him. So he added, "I don't know if it's any good, though."

"Why wouldn't it be? You're a bright young man and you have worked hard on your book", Johannes said calmly as he collected the pile of sheets in his strong, bony hands.

"But what am I supposed to do now that it's finished?" he dared to speak it out loud, this odd feeling of emptiness that had come over him when he had realised he had nothing more to add or to fix.

Johannes shrugged.

"Write another book. I have no doubt you can do it. And once you are finished with it, I will tell my solicitor to make sure it is published", he said as though he was answering the world's simplest question.

Alfred blinked in surprise, though perhaps he should not be quite so astonished at the idea. It was simply a logical thing to do now that he had endless time in his hands.

Then he cleared his throat and cast a look at the pile in the hands of his sire.

"It's my first book. Please be gentle with me", he said. As soon as he realised what he had just said, he felt mortified and wished he could sink through the floor. And as if on cue, Johannes gave him a toothy, menacing smile.

"Aren't I always?" he asked in a smooth, friendly voice and briefly grasped Alfred's chin between his fingers. The touch was too soft to be called anything but a caress. Alfred closed his eyes and bit his tongue. Would he ever stop acting like a damn fool when it came to this man?

He was still trying to check himself when the Count moved away with the manuscript. He took seat in one fluid motion, crossed his legs and fixed his eyes on the front page.

"Now, if you'd be quiet for a bit", he said pleasantly before starting to read.

Alfred knew he was going to spend more time reading the manuscript than just "a bit". Still, for a while he couldn't help but sit there and watch the Count in anxiety. After all, the first impression could tell a lot. If the beginning was not good, the chances of the rest of being readable were slim. However, his sire's face was inscrutable, and even through their mental bond he could get nothing.

"Do you want me to read this or not, Alfred? If you keep doing that, I shall be quite distracted", Johannes said suddenly without raising his eyes from the text.

"I'm not doing anything", Alfred said defensively, though a shiver passed down his spine when he thought what his sire might mean by "being distracted".

"Yes, you are. And if you can't stop it, I recommend you remove yourself from this room. Go and read a book. Or take a bath. You look untidy", Johannes said calmly, but with the faintest hint of a command in his voice.

Once again Alfred was glad he couldn't blush. Otherwise, his face would instantly have turned bright red. Instinctively he tried to smooth down his hair, as though that might somehow help. Insecurity throbbed against his skull; he still hated the idea of looking less than decent in the Count's presence. Krolock himself was always sharp and immaculate, and even in the nude he lost none of his dignity or command...

Realising the perilous direction his thoughts had taken, Alfred was quick to stop it. He almost groaned out loud.

Johannes raised a dark, quizzical eyebrow and directed him a piercing stare. As always, it made Alfred feel like the older vampire picked up much more than what he was willing to share.

And that was his cue to get out. He scrambled up on his feet and hastily made his way out.

* * *

For whatever reason, Johannes soon decided he needed to teach his fledgling some hand-to-hand combat, and so he dragged Alfred outside into the woods one fair autumn's night. Alfred was hardly very enthusiastic about the idea, but there was no refusing his sire when the man made up his mind. So, reluctant as ever, he followed the Count to a small clearing deep in the forest.

"Honestly, I don't get the point. Do you expect me to get into a lot of fist-fights?" he asked reluctantly as he watched Johannes neatly fold his overcoat on the ground – the only concession to practicality he was going to make as far as clothing went.

The Count cast him a dark look.

"Alfred, nothing could please me more than sparing you from such trouble, and I assure you that in my presence you are safe. Few even among our own kind would be foolish enough to challenge me in an open combat. But I may not always be able to protect you, Alfred. What if your prey doesn't comply easily to being bitten? You're not as strong as I'd like you to be, but if you at least know some self-defence, you may avoid being staked through the heart", said Krolock seriously and rolled his shoulders, as though some kind of a seasoned brawler about to throw himself into a fight.

The younger vampire shuddered at the idea of stakes. Then, considering Krolock's words, he felt rather bleak.

"So that's it? I can't fly, or do anything else interesting, and I'm not even strong. Am I always going to be a disappointment no matter what I do?" he asked glumly.

Johannes looked unfazed.

"Don't be such a child, Alfred. No one needs these abilities to be interesting, you least of all. And the only thing that disappoints me right now is that petulant tone which doesn't suit you in the slightest", he said, calm and infinitely patient. "Now, if you are quite finished complaining, let us begin."

Seeing Johannes was not going to pay heed to his objections, Alfred sighed wearily in surrender.

"All right, then. But for the record, I still am not sure this isn't useless", he commented, which merely earned him a sharp glare and a wave of something that felt like a warning. Knowing he'd have it easier if he just went along, Alfred shut his mouth and tried to focus on what his sire was trying to tell him.

It turned out hand-to-hand combat and self-defence were not as simple as he had expected. Apparently, he didn't even know how to stand right, and Johannes kept correcting his form, until they both were growing quite frustrated. At that point, the older vampire groaned under his breath and glared at Alfred.

"If you won't learn otherwise, let us try a different method", he said impatiently. "Close your eyes and focus on me. Perhaps you're more receptive when I'm inside your head."

"Do I have to?" Alfred asked reluctantly, but his sire just lifted an eyebrow, and that was enough of an answer for him.

Alfred sighed and closed his eyes. For a while, he was too tense to really feel anything. However, the quiet of the wood around them eventually helped him to relax a bit. Johannes often had him just listening to the sounds around them when his mind was being _"too loud". _

And then he did _feel_ the Count. The sensation still unsettled him, because it made him feel so small and exposed and defenceless. He was certain his sire was going to rummage through his brain and laugh at all the parts he found stupid and wanting.

"_Focus, Alfred!" _Johannes said, both with his voice and his thoughts. Alfred gritted his teeth and the tips of his fangs dug into his lower lip.

It took some time, but eventually he untensed again, and then he could almost _see _what his sire meant. Now he was reaching out of his own mind, and for the briefest moment he was with Johannes, and he could feel his body… no, it was not Alfred's own body, but his sire's! And then he was overwhelmed, because never once had he imagined how it would feel like to be so tall, or so old, or so strong.

He gasped out loud and his eyes flew open. He met a pair of sharp, blue eyes.

"Why on earth must you always get hung up on the most irrelevant things? Just when I think you're starting to get it..." Johannes groaned and rubbed a hand wearily across his face.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we can't all be so grand and perfect and prance around gloating about it!" Alfred snapped back.

His sire narrowed his eyes and nailed Alfred on his spot with a hard stare.

"Alfred, if you will not cease obsessing over your insecurity and this maddening issue of inferiority, I shall throw you into the top of that tree and leave you there", he said, dead serious, and flexed the claw-like fingers of his hand as though to emphasise the point. Alfred gulped. He had no doubt his sire would go through with his threat.

"Fine", he uttered and took a deep breath. "Let's try again."

It took some more time, but then at last, when tension had left his body again and his mind had gone still, he could hear Johannes.

"_Finally! _Now you are getting it", he said, sounding pleased.

"So now I know how to stand?" Alfred asked cheekily, and was glad to see that his own position did indeed mirror that of his teacher.

"Barely", Johannes said with a soft snort. "But we are getting there."

The younger vampire nodded, silently satisfied that he was not a completely hopeless case.

However, his joy was not to last long. When Krolock began to explain some simpler ways to counter an attack, he began to feel just as confused as in the start.

"You may be small, and not particularly strong, but you are quick and agile. You should use that to your advantage", said Johannes, and then proceeded to explain how to turn a stronger opponent's size and strength against them. Alfred had hard time following the lecture. He was more fascinated by the lethal, feline grace that his instructor was emanating with every movement. The sense of fascination was so strong, he did not even feel desperate for very long for knowing he would never have any hope in defending himself against such a sophisticated fighter.

"Alfred, are you listening anymore?" Johannes asked suddenly and gave his fledgling a critical stare.

"Um", said Alfred and averted his gaze.

Krolock sighed.

"Well, let's see if you've actually learned anything. I'm going to come at you, Alfred – try and block me, if you can", he instructed, and then, before the younger vampire even had a chance to collect himself, he was already on his back on the ground.

That was about how it went for a while. It was a good thing he was undead and could not be injured. Otherwise, he would be covered in bruises after tonight, and about as stiff and achy as an old man. Johannes gave him no mercy, though Alfred suspected his sire was not even coming at him with his full strength or skill.

Yet though time and again he found himself on the ground, or thrown against a tree, or sprawling face first in a bush, he also began to see the animal beauty in it. And the vampire part of him stirred, growing more and more captivated by the Count, and before he even knew it he wasn't trying to avoid attacks anymore.

"Damn it, Alfred, this is not a dance", Johannes growled at him and caught him against a tree in yet another demonstration of how he might put a stake through his fledgling's heart. And the Count was so close, and in the middle of this exercise Alfred had fallen more and more under the rule of his instincts, and his near-constant thirst had changed into a veritable _hunger… _he made no smart comments, because the only sound he could manage was a soft growl under his breath. Without a thought of he pressed himself against the Count and kissed him as though he would die if he didn't.

And that was how it went on for a long moment, rough and mad and more than just a little beastly. There was an instance he was convinced it would end in an impetuous tumble in the trampled undergrowth, and he certainly was aroused enough, but Johannes still retained a degree of self-control. In one rough movement he pulled back, and he looked more predatory than ever, hair in disarray, face whiter than snow, and eyes blazing like wildfire. His hands were like claws and somehow even his fangs were pronouncedly sharp and white.

"You won't make this easy for me, will you?" he asked in a low, rough voice, glaring at Alfred as though the young man had just done something quite outrageous.

Alfred was panting, mostly because it felt right and his undead body certainly recalled _this_, rather than because he needed the air. He didn't know what to say, nor was he certain his voice would have obeyed him. So he just shrugged.

Krolock groaned out loud and seemed to shake himself. The young man could practically feel him bristling.

"Nine Hells, I must have been out of my mind when I turned you", he muttered and straightened himself.

"Finally we agree about something", said Alfred, although it sounded quite pathetic with his thin, trembling voice.

His sire threw him a burning glare.

"Careful with your cheek, Alfred, if you are not sure you want to see what it might cost you", he said in a truly threatening voice.

For once, the young man decided sometimes it's just better to shut one's mouth.

* * *

Johannes took his time reading Alfred's book. He was not generally a slow reader, but apparently he was going through the text with all the possible care. When Alfred tried to tentatively ask for what his sire thought of it, Johannes would thwart his questions every time.

"I shall not review it until I've read the whole thing", he said and gave Alfred a long, hard look that felt like some kind of a command. Alfred grumbled a little bit on how bossy and irritating the older vampire was, but it only seemed to amuse the Count.

"Still", Alfred said after a moment, "I wish you would tell me if I'm any good."

They were returning from a hunt at this time, slowly walking through the dark, cheerless woods. Winter was getting closer again and it was making Alfred feel a bit nostalgic. Only a year ago, he had been on his way to this wild land – and to Johannes.

But now he was not lost in the wood, or freezing to death, or being hunted by a pack of hungry wolves. He was walking side by side with the man who had started as an adversary and then become so many other things. And himself – he was undead, too, and his body was full of fresh blood. The way it glowed and throbbed inside him felt a bit like an actual heartbeat.

At first, he thought Johannes wasn't going to answer. The older vampire had been quiet for a while now, and he generally did not take goading well. But suddenly he spoke.

"You are a decent writer. I imagine you have it in you to become even better", he said at length, glancing down at Alfred. The younger vampire could not help but gloat silently for a bit; he didn't think Johannes would spare him if the manuscript were rubbish.

The Count narrowed his eyes slightly and added, "Though I must say, you take my opinion far too seriously."

This sobered Alfred's mood.

"Well, it's not like I have anybody else's opinion to ask", he pointed out softly.

"Indeed. It's a dreadful thing", Johannes agreed and let out a small sigh.

"It's not that bad. And... I didn't exactly have anybody before I met you, either. Not in the way I wanted", Alfred pointed out. This made his throat feel tight, so hastily he went on an attempt to lighten the mood, "Not to mention, you would just hate it if I did not pay heed to you and your opinions. They are far superior to everyone else's, so of course they should be observed with utmost solemnity."

A faint smile appeared on the Count's features.

"Insolent, but correct. I am glad you are finally starting to come to grips with this fact", he said with the familiar lofty arrogance that was so infuriating and attractive at the same time.

And there was that tremor once again, rising from the slowly burning coal of desire that refused to die. The fresh blood inside him glowed with heat and urgency, making this need even more difficult to resist than normally. Alfred buried his nails in the palms of his hands, struggling as hard as he possibly could. He shut his eyes tightly and waited for the feeling to pass.

But then a strong hand gripped him by shoulder and turned him, so that he and his sire were face to face. Alfred opened one eye cautiously, and then quickly shut it again. Krolock looked perfectly eerie in the dim starlight; had Alfred been a living man, he would have run for his life at such sight.

"Why do you push so hard against me, Alfred? I can feel your want", he asked in a low, smooth voice. Alfred kept his eyes closed, knowing full well that the Count was looking just as enticing as his voice sounded.

"Because it's the only thing I've got left", he uttered in a thin voice. He quickly decided against trying to explain what he meant – talking was difficult enough as it was.

"But what does it earn you except frustration and discomfort? Is that how you wish to exist – punishing yourself while provoking me?" asked the Count.

"Provoking you?" Alfred asked in a thin voice.

"Yes. You do it constantly and it is quite wearisome for me. However, I hold back because I want you _willing_. But don't think for a minute that I enjoy this denial, or that it's easy to fight the instinct", said the older vampire in a menacing voice.

"Well, do you think it's any easier for me to feel your craving?" asked the younger of the two, surprised to hear himself so defiant, and so he also dared to open his eyes again. But Johannes only raised an eyebrow.

"That is my point exactly, Alfred. Why do you fight back?" he asked, very much bringing the conversation back to its starting point.

Alfred looked at the Count in frustration. There was no winning him in a debate. At least some things never changed.

But the man had decided to play dirty. He leant down slightly, bringing his face closer to Alfred's.

"I can feel your frustration, and it's not just because I'm annoying you. I know you want me. You are curious to know what it would be like now that we're both vampires. And you can find out any time you like, Alfred; there is no need to keep on tormenting us both in this way", he said in his most alluring voice, so soft and smooth that it made Alfred shake with something dark and hungry. The fresh blood made it only worse.

"Maybe the vampire in me wants it", he said in a thick, trembling voice, "but the human that still lives knows it's never so simple."

"Knows, or believes?" asked Johannes pleasantly. "I must wonder why you still insist on being so afraid of everything."

"You may have turned me, but you didn't change me", Alfred said, regaining some of his defiance.

Johannes smiled.

"So you keep telling me", he stated in a low, smooth voice. Then he leant closer again and captured Aflred's chin between his thumb and index finger. Even such a small contact made a violent shiver run down Alfred's spine and he could not help but stare back at the bright blue eyes that seemed to be endlessly deep.

"There is no need to make yourself suffer in this way, dearest Alfred. Say you want me, and I will make you forget about all this misery", he whispered, so soft and tempting that the younger of the two almost succumbed right there and then.

But somehow he was still able to hold on to some vestiges of restraint. He closed his eyes again, as that helped a little bit.

"You said it would... it would bind us. What if I don't want that? What if... I want... somebody else?" he uttered in a barely audible voice. Not that he actually had such hopes or intentions. He suspected if he did, he would just be comparing them to Johannes and finding himself disappointed. However, he couldn't say he wasn't curious about how his sire would react to such an idea.

He didn't need to wait long for a reaction. The Count snarled aloud and his hand moved like a lightning to the back of Alfred's head, grasping his hair in a tight grip, although it was not enough to hurt. It actually felt like the temperature around them dropped several degrees.

"In that case, I would not recommend bringing them under my nose", said Johannes in a silky, ominous voice that was not much more than a whisper.

Alfred opened his eyes and stared back silently. So his sire was jealous. He didn't know if he should feel unsettled or flattered – or maybe both.

"I was not planning on it", he said in a small voice, but the hand still did not release his head. Of all the irrational things he could feel, there was a strange rush of excitement. His former lover did not usually act so possessive, but some dark, vampire part of him liked it alarmingly much.

Johannes moved just little closer, so that their faces were only inches apart. Tension hung so heavily in the air, Alfred could feel each hair on his body standing up. He couldn't have moved even if he wanted.

One long, bony finger brushed across his ear and then his cheek. There was just a hint of a scratch as the older vampire pressed a sharp nail against his skin. Alfred gasped out loud and closed his eyes, desperately trying to stay calm and collected.

Then a silky, alluring voice, speaking straight into his ear, and yet he also felt like it was inside his mind at the same time.

"Have care, Alfred. I tolerate many things, but not rivals."

The Count pulled back again and once more began to walk, as if nothing had happened. For one long moment Alfred stared after him in bewilderment, before the younger of two vampires finally willed himself into moving.

He surely could not have guessed that a simple request for some feedback would lead to a jealous claim on his affections!

_To be continued._

* * *

**A/N: **Here's a new chapter at last! I swear I'm not intending to abandon this story - I've just been having a dreadful writer's block with it. Still, recently I finished the bit with combat training in the woods and that was very entertaining to write. I hope you enjoyed it as well!

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

* * *

**Calimera - **Thank you! I'm glad you liked the chapter. :)

Pouty Herbert is amusing as always - but then, he's entertaining no matter what he's doing. I hope to write a few scenes from his POV some time soon.

The "vampire training" continued to fascinate me, hence this chapter. I can't particularly see Alfred as a very powerful vampire, and I think he generally doesn't think of it, either. In this chapter, it's more of a case of insecurity: for a moment he feels like he's disappointment even as a vampire.

Anyway, things are getting more interesting for them - let's see how long Alfred is going to be able to hold back! Krolock certainly has revealed his cards in that regard. ;)

**ghostwritten2 - **In my opinion, what's the point of writing a vampire romance if you don't explore the dark and sensual side of it? But I'm glad if I've managed to invoke those things in this story! And you are certainly right - Alfred is such a romantic at heart, the relationship has to have some element of sweetness in it.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and their further probing into the territory of this bond!

**FayReadsStuff - **Thank you! I'm glad you've been enjoying my Tanz stories! :)


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